


Just Shut Up And Die

by lilasmysteries



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hate, Hate turns to love, M/M, Sexual Content, Smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, overcoming of fears, unexpected ending, what more is there to say?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 25,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilasmysteries/pseuds/lilasmysteries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. Larry Stylinson. Hearing those two names and one ship name means the absolute world to most of the teenage female population. Everyone who's a fan of One Direction believes Harry and Louis are best friends, and some even believe they're more than that. But they couldn't be more wrong. It's all an act for the cameras. In fact, Harry hates Louis. Utterly detests him. That's not quite the case for Louis feelings towards Harry though. Complete opposite. Louis loves Harry with everything in him and is constantly trying to make Harry not hate him. One week alone with Harry and he might do just that.<br/>Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story was initially posted on LarryAndHustin's account on Wattpad, also written by her. She had decided to leave Wattpad for personal reasons so I'll continue this story after chapter 14. She sort of 'gave' me this story so obviously the plot/idea is all hers and I will take no credit for any of it (except for the chapters I actaully write myself).  
> Yep, that's it really. Hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> —Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Harry’s POV**

  “Understand?” the deep voice belonging to the head of management, Mr. Droze, said sternly to me through the phone.

  “Yes. I’m not four, I can process words," I replied in a monotone.

  “Don’t speak to me like that, Styles,” he said in the same voice as before.

  “Oh c’mon, just trying to have a little fun and lighten the mood!” I smirked, trying to piss him off.

  “Whatever. Don’t be late tomorrow,” He said before abruptly hanging up. I slipped my phone into my back pocket and walked up the steps to my flat with a wide smile on my face. I don’t know exactly why they wanted to see me, but I had a pretty good idea of what it’d be about. The same thing it’s always about. Louis.

  Speak of the devil, he’s walking over to me right now with a wide smile on his face. Ugh I hate his smile. There’s nothing wrong with the smile itself, it’s a pretty cute smile, but he’s the one wears it, so I hate it.

  “Hey, Haz!” he chirped happily.

  “Call me that again and so help me God I will find a way to make your life hell,” I snapped, not in the mood to be talking to him, not that I ever was.

  He muttered something quietly that sounded like ‘you already have’ but I didn’t pay much attention to it, it’s not like I cared.

  “Anyways, Harry,” he said, emphasizing the fact that he wasn’t using the nickname I had just forbidden, “you still haven’t RSVP’d for my party... are you coming?” He asked with what looked like almost a hopeful look in his eyes.

  “I can’t. Management needs me,” I said, not sugar coating it or even apologizing for not being able to make it.

  “Oh...do you know what for? Maybe you could convince them to move the meeting, do you think they know it’s the day of my birthday party?” he asked quietly, his gorgeous, sparkling eyes that I hated so much, trying to hold back tears.

   “First off no, I can’t convince them to move it, the head of management set it up so I think it’s serious. Secondly, why the hell are you about to cry? You’re almost twenty-one and you’re getting upset over the fact that I’m not able to make it to your little party. It’s not like I’d go if I had the option,” I stated before walking away, roughly bumping into his shoulder as I passed him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  “Okay… sorry for wasting your time,” I mumbled quietly, although he had already left. Wiping a tear from my eye I turned around and walked in the direction of Zayn’s flat. I softly knocked on the door, looking down at my shoes while I waited for him to answer.

  “Hey, Lou! What’s goodie in the hoodie?” he asked cheerily. As soon as I looked up to him his smile dropped, seeing my tearstained face. Without either of us saying anything he pulled me into a giant hug. That’s just what I needed, someone to comfort me.

  “Thanks Zayn,” I said, my pathetic attempt to speak muffled by his shirt.

  “Zaaaaynie come back I miss you!” a voice whined as Liam stepped into view.

  “Oh, uh, hey Lou...didn’t see ya there...” Liam awkwardly explained, rubbing the back of his neck while looking down, blush painting his cheeks.

  “It’s fine,” I choked out, becoming upset over the way they looked like they were in love and could show it, even though they were both straight.

  “Well, uh, just to make sure you’re not uncomfortable we’ll try not to be so... y’know...mushy I guess?” he trailed off, not knowing what word to use.

  “Thanks Li. It means a lot,” I said, shooting him a weak smile.

  “So what is it this time, Boo?” Zayn asked, using the ridiculous nickname the boys all teased me for having. Well, all except one.

  “All I did was ask him to come to my birthday party. He went all off about having a meeting with management but that even if he didn’t he still wouldn’t have come. I don’t get it! All I ever did was love him and try to be his friend if nothing more, and he acts like this! Why can’t I just move on?” I asked, throwing my arms up in the air.

  “Lou it’s not your fault. None of us know why he acts like that to you, whenever we bring it up he gets angry and storms off. You did nothing wrong, he’s just a right dick.”

  “Is it so much to ask for him to be my friend, at least? I know he’ll never love me but he could at least be my friend!” I cried out, tears streaming down my face.

  “Shhh, Lou, shhh. It’s alright. He’ll come around some day,” Liam said, rubbing soft circles into my back, attempting to relax me.

  “Promise?” I asked vulnerably.

  “Promise,” Zayn and Liam said in unison.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Harry’s POV**

  “Have a seat please Mr. Styles,” Droze said, lips pursed together in a tight -and obviously fake- smile. Nodding my head, I pulled out the chair closest to me and sat down, my arms laying on the smooth glass table.

  “So, you gonna give me this whole lecture and introduction as to what this meeting is about, speaking in riddles, or can we just cut the crap and get straight to the point?” I asked, smirking ever so slightly at his small frown.

  “Fine, let’s get straight to the point: Louis,” he said, a smirk coming over his face. Just as I was about to let out a groan of disapproval, the rest of management came in.

  “Sorry we’re late,” one of them said, shooting an apologetic glance at Mr. Droze.

  “No you’re not. You purposely came late in hopes of missing his long introduction. Fortunately for us, I insisted he get straight to the point. Unfortunately for me, the point is Louis,” I said, making a point that their apology was so obviously a lie, which it was.

  “Smart one we’ve got here. Anyways, we really need to stay on topic,” another member of management said, intertwining their own fingers on the table.

  “I don’t know what the issue is with us. You all know I don’t like him, yet you force me to act as if he’s my best friend around the public. Do you know how agonizing it is?” I complained, not really wanting to talk about Louis, yet at the same time it felt so good to vent my feelings.

  “Ahh yes, we know. Lots and lots of pain and agony for the poor international popstar. What a troubled life you must live,” Droze mocked me.

  “Oh shut up and tell me why I’m here,” I groaned.

  “Quit saying stupid shit like that and I will,” he said, a genuine smile coming across his face. For someone who’s normally so stern, I’d never seen him like this. I thought about what he meant and literally laughed out loud when I realised what I’d said.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, trying to hide my laughter.

  “Wipe the smirk off your face, you’re not gonna like what’s next. You’re well aware of ‘Larry Stylinson’, correct?” he asked, getting back on topic.

  “Yeah, of course. The fans cheer it every time we’re together, even if all the other boys are there too,” I explained, wondering what he was on about with all this Larry bullshit.

  “Well, the fans aren’t too happy about what you tweeted someone recently, and quite frankly we’re not too pleased with it either,” he said, pulling out a printout of the tweet.

  “@_____ Get a fucking grip. Louis and I are not, nor will we EVER, be together,” the tweet read.

  “So?” I asked, not clearly understanding why I wasn’t allowed to defend my sexuality.

  “So, you really need to cut him some slack. I know you don’t like him, but you could just ignore what people say,” Droze said, getting slightly annoyed.

  “Number one: to say I ‘dislike’ him is an understatement. Number two: I have ignored it. For a long time. So has he. But it’s annoying as hell and I couldn’t take it any longer. I’m not some dysfunctional faggot, especially not one in love with the poor excuse of a human known as Louis Tomlinson,” I growled, not having the patience for this.

  “Listen the fuck up, and listen good. I’m not here to discuss whether or not you like him in any way. I’m here to tell you that you need to soften up, even if it is only in public. In private you can hate him all you want, but from now on you have to act like his friend. His best friend. And don’t freak out on young girls who support your non-existing relationship. Encourage it. Act the part, even if it is just acting,” Droze said angrily.

  “Hold the fuck up... You want me to pretend to be in love with him?! What if he believes it?! I don’t wanna put any ideas in his head!” I shouted. Why does management seem so insistent on me and Louis being close? Why can’t they pick someone else to be his ‘best friend’? Someone that actually likes him. Not me. Anyone but me.

  “Trust me, Harry, he won’t get the wrong idea at all. Just try, okay?” Mr. Droze said, more calm than before.

  “Fine,” I groaned.

  “Alright. Good then. You’re free to leave,” he said, motioning to the door, “Oh, and Harry?”

  “Yes?” I hissed.

  “It’s okay to be yourself. Don’t be scared,” he said before pushing me out of the room.

  What the hell is he on about?

  Once I left the room I noticed him pull out his phone and dialing a number. Not wanting it to seem like I was eavesdropping, I left the building, confused as to why he’d need to call someone immediately after that discussion.

  **Louis’ POV**

  “Louis?” a familiar deep voice asked on the other line.

  “Yeah?” I asked, repositioning the phone so I could hear better.

  “We just talked to him. He agreed. He was reluctant at first, but he agreed,” the words I had been waiting for so long to hear finally spoken.

  “Seriously?!” I asked happily.

  “Yes. But don’t get your hopes up, he said he’ll only do it in public and that when no one’s around he’s still going to treat you the same he always has,” Mr. Droze said. Okay, so maybe it’ll still be the same behind closed doors, but it’s an improvement of what’s been happening in public.

  “Thank you so much Sir. You’re the best,” I grinned, tears of happiness sliding down my cheeks.

  “Ehh, don’t mention it. If I didn’t really believe you two were meant for each other I wouldn’t be doing this,” he sighed.

  “Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” I spoke, happy that I had someone who supports me. Of course, if the boys knew they’d probably act supportive, but they’d secretly think I’m crazy.

  “Lou?” Mr Droze asked softly, his tone surprising me.

  “Yeah?” I asked quietly.

  “Don’t worry about things too much. He’ll come around eventually,” Mr. Droze spoke encouragingly.

  “Thanks. For everything,” I thanked him for the billionth time before he made a sound of agreement and hung up.

  Finally.

  It wouldn’t be easy, but I’d do it.

  I’d make Harry Styles mine.

 

  Even if it killed me.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

  **Harry’s POV**

The last week has been absolute hell. We’ve had two interviews, four signings, and one live performance on national TV. Don’t get me wrong, I love performing, and I love meeting fans, but what I don’t love is being placed next to Louis for ALL of it. Literally. For the interviews we were sat next to or somehow near each other under all conditions. If we were on a couch and I couldn’t be next to him, I had to be laying on top of the couch, my head near his. And not only that, but I had to constantly be looking at him, playing with his hands, hair, or legs, and we had to ‘whisper’ to each other and ‘giggle’. Harry Styles does NOT giggle. Then for the signings we had to do the same thing when we weren’t busy interacting with fans. During the performance we had to be next to each other most of the time. Management literally had the choreographer rearrange his previous setup so that we’d be close to each other as much as possible. It’s been unbearably painful, and I think Louis knows it’s all an act but he pretends it’s perfectly normal. He hasn’t really tried talking to me when we’re in private -thank God for that- but because of that he doesn’t realize that if he tried, I wouldn’t keep the nice act up. The absolute worst part of all of this, I didn’t completely hate it. Sure, it was annoying to practically be attached at the hip, but I technically had to ‘give him a chance’ by hanging out with him, and he’s not all that bad. He’s got a wicked sense of humor, and he always seems happy, unless I’ve just insulted him. His hands are much smaller than mine, so when we have to play with each other’s hands it’s actually kinda cute. Well, I mean, it would be if he was a girl. But he’s Louis, so it’s not exactly ‘cute’. His hair is incredibly soft too, sometimes when I got bored during the interviews I’d use it as a pillow. He smells amazing too. Like, for uh, a guy. Yeah. For a guy he doesn’t smell half bad. Not to mention that ass of his. Man, I could stare at that thing for days. Wait what the fuck? I did NOT just think that about a guy, especially not Louis. Well of course I did, his bum looks like the kind a girl would have, so I only like it because it looks like a girls bum, yeah, that’s it. Paul told us after the interview coming up that management needs to see me. It’s probably about the progress I’ve made this week, and what I’ve got coming up next week.

 

“Harry it’s time to come out for the interview,” Liam said, knocking on the bathroom door in our dressing room.

 

Snapping back to reality, I answered him before exiting the bathroom, “Yeah, of course. Coming.”

 

“What were you doing in there man? We thought you were constipated or somethin’!” Niall said, laughing at his own joke. Leave it to Niall to crack himself up.

 

“Uh no. I wasn’t that long, was I?” I asked. I couldn’t have spent that much time thinking about my past week with Louis.

 

Speaking of, I saw him raise his eyebrows at me from across the room, a ‘we need to talk’ look on his face. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve ignored it or said ‘fuck no’ if he asked me to talk privately, but I knew what this was about. I walked over to him, Zayn, Liam, and Niall all looking dumbfounded at my willingness to talk to him. They’d noticed I’d been speaking to him and not acting like a dickhead to him lately, but they knew better than to ask me about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if management told them. Then again, I also wouldn’t be surprised if management didn’t.

 

“Okay so Mr. Droze said the interviewer might ask something about Larry, and that if they did you have to keep your calm and not uh, have a repeat of what happened on Twitter,” Louis spoke the last part awkwardly. Oh, so he’d seen the tweet. Well of course he had you idiot, why wouldn’t he have seen it? But why would he care? Eh, he probably doesn’t.

 

“Heh, yeah, that’d be a bit awkward.. I’ll uh, try to y’know, stay calm and not say anything if I don’t trust my voice,” I said, stuttering, not knowing how to word my sentence. That’s weird, I’ve never gotten flustered when speaking to someone unless I was nervous around a girl.

 

“Oh and also, Paul wanted me to remind you management wants to see you after the interview,” he added, looking at his feet.

 

“Jeez, don’t you know how to make eye contact when speaking to someone? And yeah, I know, I remembered,” I added, a bit harsher than I intended.

 

“Oh, uh, okay. Sorry to waste your time,” he said, sounding sad.

 

“Nah, you didn’t really waste my time.. Not like I’ve got anything better to do, just waiting for them to call us,” I said, shooting him a somewhat apologetic smile. Why was I being so nice to him? Whatever. Without waiting for him to carry on our awkward conversation, I gave him a weird nod and walked outside to the stage, where everyone was probably wondering where Louis and I were.

 

“Ahh, Harry you’ve decided to join us. And you too, Louis! What’ve you two been up to?” the woman with sandy blonde hair asked with a cheeky wink at the end.

 

“Just talking.” Louis shrugged.

 

“And maybe a bit of snuggling, too…” I added with a wink, used to saying sappy shit like this.

 

The woman chuckled before asking Liam, “So, Liam, what’s your favorite song off the new album?”

 

“Well, it’s not completely done yet, but I really like Last First Kiss,” he said with a smile (A/N I don’t remember what his real favorite TMH song is so I made it up, and in this TMH wasn’t released yet at this point).

 

“Can’t wait to hear it! And Niall, if I’m correct, I think I heard that you’ve been a big contributor to this album,” she said, turning her attention to the blonde boy.

 

“Uh yeah, I’ve written a few songs off Take Me Home. But I’m not the only one. All the boys have been helpin’ with bits and pieces of it. And Lou’s workin’ on a song of his own too,” Niall added with a smile. Louis is writing a song for the album? Hm, I guess no one told me. Probably because it’s involving Lou, and probably figured I wouldn’t really care. It’s kinda cool that he’s writing a song, but I don’t think it’ll be too great. I’m not judging his skills or anything, but it’ll probably be a shit song because he’s the one writing it.

 

“Harry? Harry!” a voice spoke, breaking me out of my rude thoughts.

 

“Uhh, yeah?” I asked, turning to see Zayn shaking my shoulder.

 

“Kayla asked you a question, mate,” he said, a smirk on his face. Oh great, embarrass me on live television, why don’t you?

 

“Uhh… I uh… I knew that. I’m just uh… I was thinking? Yeah... Uh, Kayla could you repeat the question please?" I asked politely.

 

“Of course. I asked you if you had to pick one of the boys to be stuck on an island with, who would you pick?” she asked, for apparently the second time.

 

I went to say Liam, but caught myself quickly, “Li-ouis of course. Best mates right here!” I said, slinging my arm around his shoulder.

 

“Besties for life!” Louis added cheerfully, with a genuinely huge smile on his face. He may be stupid, annoying, ugly, disgusting, and just overall horrible, but he’s a great actor, I’ve gotta hand it to him.

 

“Just ‘besties’? Or something more?” Kayla asked with a small giggle.

 

Lou and I both chuckled before he did something that surprised me, as well as the rest of the boys, while the crowd just went wild.

 

The fucker kissed my cheek and laughed, cuddling his head into my shoulder. He’s gonna really fucking get it later.

 

“Comfy?” I asked with a tight smile, trying to control my anger.

 

“Mhm,” he sounded before Kayla turned to Zayn.

 

“Alrighty then. Zayn, what’s been your favorite and least favorite part of being famous?”

 

“Well my favorite has definitely been getting to go to brand new places and do what I love. My least favorite, unlike most people who don’t like being away from family, my least favorite part is having to get up so early. Sound checks too, they take FOREVER. I’d honestly rather just go out and do it, completely winging it! I think it’d be quite funny if something went wrong, plus then while the engineery people try to fix it we could talk to fans and stuff.” Zayn said, a wide smile on his face. He loves sleeping, so constantly waking up early is NOT fun for him. Liam on the other hand, quite the earlybird.

 

“Haha, alrighty. Last question of the day, this one’s for everyone. Who’s single and who’s taken?” Kayla asked, raising her eyebrows and smirking.

 

I’ve noticed we all smirk a lot. I guess it’s a British thing. Americans don’t really smirk. Niall smirks, but he’s always around Brits, so maybe that’s why.

 

Zayn and Liam had matching smiles on their faces as they said their girlfriend’s names at the same time and laughed

 

“Well, ya know me! Single n’ ready ta mingle!” Niall said, winking to the audience.

 

“Happily married!” Louis shouted, smiling at me and squeezing my shoulders.

 

“Ow Lou,” I hissed quietly, pulling away from him.

 

“Ooh, sorry Haz. But in all seriousness, I’m single,” Louis said. That damn nickname. He’s dead.

 

“Got your eye on anyone in particular?” Kayla asked Louis. Well, I guess no one cares if I’m single or not…

 

“Yes actually. I’m really into someone. But they don’t feel the same. I’m working on it though!” Louis said with a weak smile.

 

“Well, she’s an idiot not to want you.” No she’s not, I thought to myself, “But hey, if things don’t work out with her… I’m always here!” Kayla said jokingly.

 

“Uh, I’m single too, if anyone’s wondering. And I’m open for dating anyone, really! S’long as you’re at least fourteen,” I added on the end cautiously, breaking 13 year old hearts all around the world.

 

“Alright well, that’s all the time we’ve got today! Let’s give a round of applause to One Direction!” Kayla cheered as the crowd went wild with their claps.

 

We walked offstage and I didn’t even bother going to the dressing room, I just went straight to the small conference room inside the building that management would be waiting for me in.

 

“Have a seat Harry,” a middle aged man with stubble on his chin said.

 

“Please cut to the chase. I don’t want to be here long, I’d really enjoy a shower in the dressing room,” I said exhaustedly.

 

“Was planning on doing that anyways,” he huffed, seeming to be as tired as I was.

 

I cleared my throat in an attempt to get him to speak.

 

“Oh yes. Okay. Well, we’re very pleased with how you and Louis have been acting. The fans are satisfied as well. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you two really do love each other. Anyways, it’s all been great work. However, we want to take a step further. You may not agree with this, but you’ve really got no other choice. Can you hand your phone over to me please?” he asked politely, a smile revealing no specific emotion on his face.

 

“Uhh okay?” I responded, sliding the power off button on the screen and handing it to him.

 

“Okay. Thank you. Here you go,” he said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out an iPhone looking identical to mine.

 

“This is what you’ll be able to use for the next week. It has no calling, texting, any of that. It’s just got Twitter and Tumblr. Now let me explain what’s going on. We’ve already had this meeting with Louis earlier, we figured you might object stronger than him so we decided to save your meeting until there was nothing you can do about it. For the next week you’ll be staying at a flat somewhere in London alone... with Louis,” he breathed out the last part, expecting me to scream. In fact, I expected me to scream too.

 

But no, all I managed to say was, “So why did you give me this phone instead of mine?” Stupid Harry. Stupid, stupid Harry.

 

“Because you are to be in contact with no one except him. If there is an emergency you can use the phone in your flat to call us, or the police. Those are the the only two numbers it calls, so don’t try anything slick. The flat has two bathrooms and one bedroom that the two of you will be sharing. One bed. Sorry, but that’s all we could get. We’re kinda on a budget paying for this flat for a week. Anyways, you both are expected to upload at least one picture a day to your Twitter. The fans have been told that you’re going on a mini-vacation together. There’s a car outside waiting for both of you to go to the flat now. Don’t try leaving, the windows and door are very heavily locked and protected. And don’t worry about clothing, we went into your flat and got enough clothes for a week. Bye now,” he explained before lightly shoving me out of the room.

 

A week.

 

Alone.

 

With no one except Louis.

 

Louis.

 

The one person on the planet that I absolutely despised.

 

One bedroom.

 

One bed.

 

That we have to share.

 

 

Well, shit.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

  **Harry’s POV**

  The second the car pulled into the driveway of the flat I jumped out the door. I opened the trunk and grabbed my bag out before slamming it, almost taking off Louis fingers in doing so.

  “Ah mate! You could’ve slammed that on me!” Louis yelped, jerking his hand back at the last second. I didn’t even bother to answer, just glared at him before turning to the driver who was fumbling for the key to the flat.

  “Hurry up it’s just a damn key can’t be taking you that long,” I snarled, angry that I had to spend an entire week with Louis, and only Louis.

  “What’s up your ass?” the driver asked with a smirk.

  “Nothing but if you make one more smart remark my fist will be so far up yours it’ll come out of your mouth,” I threatened. I broke out into a small fit of laughter immediately after, making my threat seem harmless.

   “Ooh big bad Styles is gonna come get me!” the driver joked, finally unlocking the door. I laughed in response, not really knowing how to carry on that conversation.

  “Here ya go buddy,” he said, pushing open the door and walking back down the entrance steps, patting me on the back as he walked away.

  “Hey, don’t go inside quite yet!” Louis called out to me as I was about to step inside.

  “What?” I barked.

  “Picture for Twitter?” he asked hopefully.

  “Ugh, fine,” I reluctantly agreed before posing with a wide smile and two thumbs up in front of the open door.

  Ping.

  New Twitter notification: “@Louis_Tomlinson: Just got to the flat, @Harry_Styles approves of it!”

  I quickly typed out a reply before picking up my bags and walking inside.

  @Louis_Tomlinson of course I approve of it! It could be the shittiest place on earth and I’d approve as long as you’re there with me! xx

  That’s gonna be the reason Twitter and Tumblr crash in a few hours, good work Styles.

  “So Harry, can I ask you a question?” Louis said, closing the door behind him.

  “You just did,” I pointed out lazily, opening the fridge door. I grabbed a Coke, not offering one to Louis before continuing my self-tour of the flat with my bag. When I finally reached the bedroom I dropped my bag and fell to the bed.

  “Someone’s tired,” I heard a voice say from behind me.

  “Holy fuck, Louis! Are you following me or something?” I practically yelled.

  “Yes. I need to ask you something,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “What?” I asked uninterestedly. There was a pause then,

  “W-Why do you hate me so much?” he stuttered out quietly, looking at his feet.

  “S-Sorry what?” I asked, completely caught off-guard. Sure, Liam, Niall, and Zayn have asked me plenty of times why I hate Louis, but Louis has never asked me himself.

  “You....You hate me. Why?” he asked, looking up at me, tears forming in his eyes.

  Fuck.

  I can’t just not answer; he’s standing in front of the door, preventing me from leaving. I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking hard.

  Why do I hate him?

  Do I even know?

  I don’t really think I’ve ever had a reason.

  I hate his smile.

  His laugh.

  His voice when he speaks and sings.

  His clothing style.

  His hair.

  His eyes.

  His personality.

  The way he’s always happy, unless I’ve just insulted him.

  His playfulness.

  His persistence.

  I even hate the way he’s so nice to me, even though I treat him like worthless shit.

  I hate everything about him.

  But why?

  I know why.

  Deep down.

  I’ve never admitted it to anyone, not even myself.

  But now, now that he’s got me cornered in a position where I can’t ignore him,

  I almost have to.

  I have to admit it to myself, if not him, or anyone else.

  I don’t hate him.

  I don’t hate everything about him.

  I hate that I love it.

  That I love him.

  “H-Harry?” he asked, sounding scared. I could feel his hot breath on my face.

  Wait, I can feel his breath? Why can I feel his breath? Did he come over to the bed? Why did he come so close to me?

   Oh.

  He didn’t.

  I somehow made my way up to him.

  Our bodies only about a foot away.

  “Harry...?” he asked again, sounding more confident.

  “I.....I....I-I uh...I-“ I cut myself off, doing something I never ever thought I’d do.

  Something that shocked him.

  Something that surprised him.

  But it surprised me more.

  I kissed him.

  I kissed Louis.

_Holy shit._


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  I’m such an idiot. I never should’ve opened my mouth. Why? Because now I’m sitting on the bed crying my eyes out, while Harry’s locked himself in the bathroom. I haven’t tried getting him to come out, (a/n no pun intended lol) and I don’t plan on doing so anytime soon. He kissed me.

  He actually pressed his lips to my own, for a solid 5 seconds.

  Undoubtedly the best 5 seconds of my life.

  Oh shut up Louis, you sound like some cliche lovesick boy.

  Well, I guess I am.

  In love with someone I can’t have, finally get the kiss of my dreams, and then the person disappears.

  Well, he’s not exactly disappeared, because he can’t leave the flat.

  He’s disappeared from my sight, but he’s only on the floor right below me.

  Oh boy. This is going to be a very awkward next 6 days.

  Oh well.

  At least I’ll be remotely close to him.

  I subconsciously floated my fingertips softly across my lips, his taste still lingering, along with the tingles.

  Yep, you’re definitely cliche Louis.

  And talking to yourself.

  I unpacked my stuff into one dresser, and then unpacked his stuff into the other dresser.

  I changed into pyjamas, and climbed into the soft bed, taking up all the space, knowing Harry wouldn’t come in during the night.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  I lazily walked down to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes to clear my vision. I grabbed the milk out of the fridge and turned around to grab the cereal, only to find a plate of pancakes and a note taped to the counter.

_I made pancakes and there were extras. Happy breakfast. If you have to use the loo knock 3 times then walk away. Come back 20 seconds later and when you leave just shout out letting me know. Don’t wait for me by the door. I’ll approach you when I’m ready. -H_

 

  Well, okay then. I put the milk back into the fridge, grabbing the syrup and plate of pancakes on the counter before sitting down and putting the delicious food into my mouth.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Harry’s POV**

_knock_

_knock_

_knock_

  Jeez this is the third time in the past hour that he’s needed the bathroom does he have diarrhea or something? I heard footsteps walking away and assumed it’d be safe to come out. I ran into the coat closet and counted the rest of the time in my head before hearing more footsteps and a closing door.

  “DONE!” I heard a shout and footsteps before I stepped back out into the hallway and ran back into the bathroom. Locking the door I turned around and sighed, my eyes closing.

  Not even a minute later I opened them back up and bumped into something.

  What the hell?

  “W-Wha?” I stuttered, looking right in front of me only to be met with Louis chest practically in my face.

  “Uhm..hi,” he said quietly, slightly swaying back and forth on his toes with a childlike look on his face.

  “Louis what the hell?! I told you not to wait for me! I heard your footsteps walking away!” I shouted, pushing his away from me.

  “Yeah...I kinda...I snuck back in before you came back?” he said, it sounding more like a question than a statement. I turned and reached for the doorknob, only for him to yank my arm back forcefully.

  “Wh—”

  “Wait. Please. It’s been four days. We have two days left in this place before we get to leave again. I’ve been using both of our phones to take pictures for Twitter but I’m kinda running out of things to photograph without anyone in the picture,” he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “So you just want me to take a few pictures? I could take a few right now and then you can upload them on different days,” I suggested, knowing that’s not what he meant.

  “No. I mean you have to come out of this damn bathroom! We don’t have to talk about... it, but you can’t stay in there for two more days. Plus you reek, change your clothes and take a shower or something,” he said, jokingly plugging his nose.

  “Fine I’ll shower now. Leave.” I said, opening the door for him.

  “Okay, but if you don’t come out in an hour I’m calling management and telling them you tried to sneak out,” he said with a smirk. That little fucker.

  “You wouldn’t,” I said, slightly unsure, myself.

 

  “Oh but I would, Harold!” he chirped before skipping out of the room.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Harry’s POV**

  I walked back into the bathroom after changing to brush my teeth. I had also brought all my clothes and stuff I’d brought with me, and a few pillows and blankets. I needed to do this. It needed to be done. I brushed my teeth and shook my hair out once again, trying and failing to dry it. I set up the pillows and blankets in the bathtub, where I’d be sleeping tonight. I know I told Louis I’d come out of the bathroom, but while I was showering I changed my mind. He can call management if he wants, I don’t really care. I took out a pen and some paper from my suitcase and lied down on the floor of the bathroom, uncapping the pen, a few tears welling up in my eyes as I began to write.

 

\-----------------------

 

**Louis’ POV**

  It’s been an hour and a half. Where’s Harry? Still in the bathroom. I haven’t called management, that was just an empty threat so he’d come out, but I guess he didn’t care. I heard a weird noise coming from near the bathroom so I walked over to the door to find a piece of paper outside the door with my name sloppily written across the folded sheet. I walked into the bedroom and closed the door, plopping down onto the soft mattress. A note. From Harry obviously. Who else could leave a note outside the bathroom door? I unfolded the paper and began reading.

 

_Louis,_

_before i start this note i just want to let you know im not gonna capitalize correctly or apostrophes because it takes too long._

_four days ago we came to this flat together._

_four days ago you asked me a question that literally changed my life._

_you said “harry why do you hate me?”_

_what did i do in response?_

_i kissed you._

_four days ago i kissed you._

_96 hours ago. 5,760 minutes ago. 345,600 seconds ago._

_i wish i could say it was an accident._

_well i guess it technically was._

_if i had had control over myself i wouldnt have done it but it happened and i have to accept that. but do you know why it happened? because i love you. i love you louis. i really fucking do. and i hate it. THAT is why i hate you. i dont really hate you. i dont hate everything about you. i hate that i love you. its not right. being gay is not right. im sick. its disgusting. ive been too ashamed to see anyone or talk to anyone for 4 days because i sicken myself and i know i sicken others too just by being gay. i know youll never love me like i love you because youre amazing. youre perfect so how could someone as perfect as you be so sick? you cant. so you arent. i know ill eventually move on. i can force myself to like girls again. we can go back to never talking if youre disgusted by me. truth is i really love having to pretend to be your best friend in public because i get to spend time with you. i act like i hate it and i used to feel like i hated it too but when you asked me why i hate you i finally admitted it to myself that i love you and im so sorry for kissing you it was a huge mistake and it will NEVER EVER happen again because after we leave this flat im going to never talk to you again not even in public we will just stand next to each other when we have to but i will not talk to you i dont want to disgust you with my presence. after i got out of the shower i used our phones to take a few more pictures and i took them of me and of you when you didnt notice and i will post them in the next few days that we are here you can do the same on your phone. once again im really sorry for being such a bother to you and i apologize with everything in me for loving you but i cant control it. i hope you dont hate me for being gay because i cant do anything about it if i could i would make myself love girls like how liam loves dani and how zayn loves perrie. i would love girls how you used to love el even though you broke up and no one knows why. all us boys know youll tell us (or them anyways) when youre ready to talk about it. i love you._

_im so sorry._

_-harry_

 

 

  I looked down at the now tear stained note and rubbed my eyes. Harry loves me back, so I should feel happy. So then why do I feel like the worst person in the world?


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  I rubbed my eyes, wiping away the dry tear stains on my cheeks for about the third time since reading the note. I’d only read it once but in the past four hours I’d cried, stopped, cried, stopped, cried, and now I’ve just stopped again. I don’t even know what to think about the note, so instead of thinking I’ve just been watching TV, not really paying attention, and then I randomly start crying again. I could hear quiet crying from inside the bathroom too, so I guess Harry’s upset as well. He shouldn’t be. I hate that he’s sickened by who he is. There’s nothing wrong with being gay. I’ve known since I was ten. Eleanor helped me by pretending to date me so that Harry wouldn’t suspect anything. Eventually I just couldn’t handle it anymore. He never seemed to like her, I had always thought it was because he didn’t think anyone would be attracted to me since he hated me so much, but now I’m wondering if maybe he was jealous...

  I can’t take it anymore. He’s not crying, I’m not crying. We’re just both completely silent, no noise except for my heartbeat. There’s thick tension in the air, but it’s covered by our sadness and our concentration on anything and everything but breaking down again. I just...I just need to see him. Even if no one says anything. I need to know that he’s okay, even if he’s only temporarily okay. I walked back into the bedroom, getting underneath the covers of the bed.

  Trying to think of a way to get him to come out, I took out my phone and started scrolling through my mentions on Twitter, following back a bunch of fans who were undoubtedly happier than me at the moment. Then I checked my DM’s, following the names people asked me to follow.

  DM’s.

_That’s it!_

  I opened up a new DM to Harry before sending it.

_u dont have to say anything to me i wont say anything to you but you should at least have the comfort of not being alone. just please come into the bedroom?_

  What felt like days but was probably only a minute or so I got a response.

_speak one word and im gone again_

  And not even a minute later the door opened, revealing a bloodshot looking Harry, holding pillows and a blanket. I wordlessly pat the space next to me on the bed and he slowly walked over to the bed, getting underneath the covers.

  Did I actually just manage to get Harry to lay in the same bed as me?

  Yeah, considering the fact that he’s snuggling into me and his head is resting on my chest, I guess I did.

 

  He silently moved closer to me, intertwining our legs and flipping over so that his face was buried into my chest. His arms wrapped around my neck and his curls tickling my nose. I wrapped my arms around his waist and closed my eyes, finally able to comfortably sleep.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Harry’s POV**

  My eyes blinked a few times before fluttering open, the room completely dark. My eyes took a mere two seconds to adjust to the darkness, and I looked around the room. Two dressers, full-body mirror, cream-ish/yellowish walls. Hmm, this doesn’t look like the bathroom...

  Then I remembered.

_Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!!_

  I looked up in front of me to see Louis fast asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly, his legs underneath mine. I cautiously backed away, trying carefully not to wake him so I could slip out without his knowledge, but of course, I couldn’t. I fell off the bed with a loud thud, a small pain shooting up my side.

  “Hm?” I heard Louis hum from the bed, pulling the covers off of him.

  “Uh..nothing. I fell off the bed, I’m fine. I’m gonna go make breakfast,” I easily lied, standing up and brushing myself off.

  “Liar,” he stated simply, standing up as well.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re lying. You’re not gonna make breakfast, you’re going right back into that bathroom and staying there for the rest of our time here, how do I know that? Because I can see right through you,” he snapped, almost sounding angry. I’d never seen him in this sort of state.

  “Um…” I said, awkwardly rubbing the back of my neck as I looked at the ground.

  “Would you look at me while I’m talking to you? There’s nothing wrong with being gay. You’re still human. Nothing is different about you except your sexuality,” he said, stepping in front of the door so that I couldn’t leave.

  “It’s not right to be gay,” I said, kicking lightly at the floor.

  “If it were wrong to be gay God wouldn’t have created gays,” Louis challenged.

  “Maybe he did, to show the world that not everyone’s perfect,” I tried, although my voice cracked multiple times throughout the sentence.

  “Harry?” Louis asked softly.

  “What?” I asked in a bored tone.

  “Do you love me? Like, really?” he asked, sounding utterly vulnerable.

  “W-Wha-What do you mean?” I asked, surprised by his question.

  “You said you’re in love with me... But are you really? You say you love me but then you go on preaching how it’s wrong to be gay. Were you serious when you said you loved me or were you just playing another one of your sick little games?" he asked, sounding hurt even though I hadn’t yet answered.

  “I... I-I don’t know,” I breathed out, sighing deeply.

  “I knew it. You’re just trying to fucking play with me again! It’s a game! That’s all it fucking is to you! That’s all it’s ever been and that’s all it ever will be! Do you know why we’re in this flat together? Do wanna fucking know why you’re forced to act like my best friend?!" Louis shouted, coming closer to me with every word he spoke. I gulped and shook my head, trying to move away but he just kept coming closer.

  “Because I love you and I wanted management to help me make you not hate me and you know what? I was stupid to believe it’d ever work. So I’m sorry for wasting your time and I’m sooo sorry for endlessly loving you even though you treat me like a piece of shit. You know what Harry? Being gay isn’t wrong, you’re just a fucking coward,” he spat angrily before punching me in the stomach.

  “What the fuck?!” I yelled before pushing him, causing him to fall into the door.

  “Don’t fucking touch me like that!” he yelled, pure rage taking over him. He lunged at me but I grabbed his arms, causing him to squirm under my grasp. He started yelling a bunch of shit to me, telling me I don’t deserve him, cursing me out multiple times. And to be honest, I’m fucking tired of it.

 

  “JUST FUCKING SHUT UP AND DIE ALREADY YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” I screamed before opening the door and once again locking myself into the bathroom.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  It’s been two weeks since I got out of that damned flat and neither Harry or I have spoken a word to each other. Not that I want to talk to that prick anyways.

  “You know you still love him,” Zayn sighed, sitting down on the couch.

  “Was I thinking out loud again?” I asked, not really caring much about the answer though.

  “Nope. But I can tell when you’re thinking about him. We all can. And I knew it was bad because your forehead was wrinkled again. You really shouldn’t do that, we’ve got a photoshoot coming up and no one’s gonna want to put weird wrinkle cream on your forehead,” he said, putting his legs up on the coffee table, his arms folding behind his head. Oh how relaxed he looked. I wish I could feel like that. But no, Harry wouldn’t allow that. Ever since the... incident... I’ve been extremely exhausted. Why’d he do that? He’d played games with me before....but that....that was just him being purely cruel. Even the boys gave him the silent treatment for a few days, but Niall cracked when he heard Harry crying and whimpering in his room. Well good for him. He should be crying. And whimpering. He deserves the sleepless nights, not me. He deserves the painful thoughts, not me. He deserves all of this stupid baggage I’m carrying around, not me.

  “Lou! Earth to Louis!” Zayn shouted, now standing in front of me instead of sitting on the couch.

  “What?” I asked, closing my eyes. If only I could get some peace and quiet.

  “I said I’m going out. Do you want me to call Liam or Niall over to keep you company?” he asked, putting on his shoes and jacket.

  “No!” I answered, a bit too insistent, “I mean...no....thanks.....I’m uh, I’m alright.”

  “Okay...” Zayn said awkwardly, drawing out the ‘o’ sound.

  “Yeah. Um...well... thanks anyways. Have fun wherever you’re going,” I said before quickly closing the door in his face.

  Finally.

  Peace.

  Maybe now Harry would leave my thoughts and I’d actually be able to sleep.

~}•{~ 

**Harry’s POV**

  “He was thinking about you again. Not so great thoughts,” Zayn’s voice said, the door closing behind him.

  “What’d he say about me this time?” I asked weakly, moving from my previous position of laying down to sitting, facing Zayn.

  “He didn’t say anything, but he had this horrible scowl on his face and his forehead was wrinkled. Then I told him I knew he was thinking about you and he confirmed it. So... yeah. Not such good things,” he said, taking off his shoes.

 I sighed deeply before standing up off the couch.

  “I need to go have a workout. You coming?” I asked, walking into my room to change.

  “Harry Styles is going to leave his flat?! Of course I’m coming!” He gasped dramatically, putting his shoes back on.

  “Haha, very funny. I’d have to leave some time. Plus don’t we have a photoshoot tomorrow? I’d have to leave then,” I pointed out, coming back out of my room in a fresh t-shirt and sweats.

  “Wow you change fast,” Zayn said, completely ignoring my question.

  “I know,” I shrugged, slipping on my converse sneakers.

  “So the shoot tomorrow. That means you have to see Lou,” Zayn said, and for the first time I thought about it.

  “Shit,” I mumbled, shaking out my hair before grabbing my phone from its charger.

  “Just....don’t say anything to him? He’s acting all angry and tough but we can all see that he’s torn up about it...” he said softly, opening my front door.

  “I’m upset too! Tell him not to talk to me!” I argued, closing the door behind myself and hopping into my car.

 

  “Trust me, he’s not going to. Not even if his life depends on it.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  This is probably the most awkward photo shoot we’ve ever had. The photographer keeps trying to get me close to Harry, but either he or I come up with some bullshit excuse as to why we should be photographed near someone else.

  “Okay, so I need Zayn and Liam for this next picture, and then you guys get a five minute break,” the photographer announced, summoning Zayn and Liam to the backdrop.

  He took a few minutes to get everything exactly how he wanted it, then he took the picture. The boys walked over to me and Niall, and we then made our way over to the food tables. Harry followed close behind us, looking at the ground.

  Suddenly I felt someone tapping on my shoulder as I filled my plate with an assortment of snacks.

  “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” I heard Harry ask weakly, his voice catching at the end.

  “Can’t you see I’m trying to get food?” I replied coldly, trying to keep myself composed.

  “Please, Lou? I promise I won’t get mad or shout or anything. I just wanna talk. Nothing more. You don’t have to say anything, just listen. And then, if you really have nothing to say, you can walk away. I’ll suck it up and act like nothing ever happened, and I’ll never bother you again,” he said, following me as I moved down the line, trying to get away. I put the last piece of food that would fit onto my now crammed plate on the very corner, biting the end off so it wouldn’t hang over the edge and slip.

  “Fine,” I sighed, turning to face him. Wordlessly, he started walking towards an empty hallway and stopped when he reached somewhere that no one would find us.

  “So?” I asked, leaning against the brick wall.

  “I know you probably hate me, and I’m sorry. For everything. For what I said in the flat... for what I said for these past three years we’ve known each other. Anything I’ve ever said to you that hurt, confused, or did anything else to you. I understand if you never speak to me again, but just know, everything I said to you about my feelings in that house... I meant it. I was telling the truth. I-It wasn’t just a game...” he finished with a sigh, tears welling over, messing up all the makeup the artists put on him even though he really didn’t need it.

  “Thank you... for that,” I said in a monotone, turning and walking away.

  Back down the empty hallway.

  Back near the tables where everyone was eating their food.

  “Lou! Where’d you and Harry go? We looked all over!” I heard a voice call out but I couldn’t tell if it was Liam or Zayn.

  I didn’t answer.

  Just kept walking.

  Past all the staff.

  Past the backdrops and cameras.

  Past the lobby desk with the cheerful receptionists smiling at me.

  Right out the front door.

  Right into the crowds of fans and paparazzi.

  Past the huge cameras and flashes.

  Past the fans screaming my name, trying to get even one glimpse of me.

  But they didn’t get it.

  Not even one.

  I kept my head down, walking past everyone.

  I didn’t know how far the flat was from the studio, and I didn’t really care.

  I walked past everything.

  Not to any place in particular, just kept on walking.

  Past all the people.

  All the things.

 

  All of my problems.


	13. Games - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  Harry hasn’t even looked at me since I left him at the shoot that day.

  Let me tell you, this love I feel for him, it’s turning into something else.

  Something bad.

  Something  _dark_.

  I no longer want him to be with me, to hold me, to care for me, to love me.

  I mean, yes, I do want him to care about me, and to love me. But not in the way that I used to.

  I want him to want me more than anything in the world.

  I want him to know how it feels to be the one hurting; to feel like no matter what you do, you’ll never have the love you feel returned.

 

  I want him to pay.


	14. Games - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by LarryAndHustin.

**Louis’ POV**

  So this teasing, this ‘revenge’ thing, it’s quite fun. And the best part? Harry knows exactly what I’m doing, and he’s responding exactly how I want him to. Speaking of, time to turn up the heat.

  “But yeah..that’s it really.” Liam shrugged, me just tuning back into the conversation having absolutely no clue what he was talking about.

  “Okay...well, this one’s for all of you. Take this question into deep consideration. What, in your opinion, is the best way to eat a popsicle?” the interviewer asked, trying to hold back laughter.

  The boys however, had absolutely no self-control and burst into loud guffaws.

  I had other plans.

  “Hm, that’s a tough one. But I think, what I’d do, is go little by little, savoring the flavor. Put a little bit into your mouth at one time, and kind of just wrap your lips around it and suck on that one part, then when it’s gone move on lower down. And then just do that until you’ve finished it all up. But you can’t forget to sometimes lick at the bottom to make sure it doesn’t drip onto you, it’s always annoying when that happens,” I said with a smirk on my face, looking at Harry from across the room the entire time I spoke.

  The silence that came after that was so awkward that you could taste it.

  Thanks to Niall, that didn’t last very long.

  “Oh my god, Louis!” he yelled out before clutching his stomach and falling to the ground with laughter. Zayn and Liam soon joined him, mostly laughing at Niall’s laugh. Harry remained silent, his eyes trained on the ground. They snapped up literally for .01 seconds and I caught his glance, making him swallow big enough for me to see his Adam’s apple bobbing afterwards.

  “So what about you, Harry? How would you eat a popsicle?” I said, my voice having a deeper, steady tone to it.

  “I-uh-you-I-I think you summed it up pretty well,” he stuttered out, struggling to find words to say.

 

  “Yeah, I think I did too.” I winked, turning to the three boys on the floor and pretended to be interested in their attempts to get up.


	15. Games - Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! This time I've written it!

**Louis’ POV**

   It was two days after the interview  when we decided to have a marathon of horror films. Not my favourite idea but, I’d like to think I could handle it. We met up at Niall’s at half nine, immediately occupying any soft area in the living room. Our plan was to stay awake was long as possible, although we knew we probably would only make it till about four-ish. Harry and I completely ignored each other, making a huge effort to chat animatedly with the remaining three lads. They didn’t seem to pick up on our strange behaviour and if they did, they refrained from commenting.

  By half one we had watched three films, our current one being  _Mama_.  The speakers leaked of intense, unnerving melodies as Annabel was just about to open the wardrobe on our screen. When she yanked it open, I simultaneously jerked from where I was seated on the carpeted floor and forced my senses not to see nor hear as I muttered an excuse about being thirsty. I hurriedly raced over to the kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water before chugging it down in enormous gulps. Once calmed I sighed heavily and glanced around Niall’s kitchen. Atop the counter by the stove stood a fruit bowl containing an orange, two bananas and four apples. I smirk stretched my features as an evil idea planted its seed in my mind. I took ahold of one banana, effectively separating it from the other, and walked back into the living room. I reclaimed my seat on the floor in front of Liam, who sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, however, it was mostly Niall consuming the contents. On the other side of Liam, Harry was seated watching me from the oblique angle. I wasn’t looking at him but I could feel his gaze on my skin, tickling it pleasantly. I grabbed a cushion from Zayn who was intently watching the movie from the recliner where he was seated, and placed it under my bum to  prevent any numbness. Once comfortable I begin to peel the banana as slow as possible but not slow enough to be considered suspicious. When the amount of desired peel was peeled satisfyingly off the fruit, I brought it to my lips. I pouted them slightly to meet the banana, before engulfing the fruit’s upper region in my mouth. I faintly heard a whimper coming from the end of the couch with the accompanying burning of Harry’s stare as I let the banana slip out again only to bring it in moments later. The friction between the surface and my lips caused the skin to drag along the shape of the fruit. I drew my lips back to not shield any action from view, bared my teeth and bit down on the tip, teasing my tastebuds with the little piece of sweet taste. I flicked my tongue out at the top, savouring the flavour. Suddenly I was tugged away from the creepy light emitted from the screen. None of the boys noticed, being to engrossed in the film to pay anything else much mind. I found myself in the kitchen a moment later, facing a cross-armed, frustrated Harry. He arched his eyebrow at me.

  “You’ve really got to stop this, Louis. It’s driving me fucking insane! I said I’m sorry,” His nostrils flared in the most adorable way.

  I widened my eyes comically, feigning the appearance of innocence.

  “To what could you possibly be referring to?” I asked, my expression morphing into one of intense lust as I brought the banana to my lips, seductively taking a bite while I let my eyes trail from Harry’s face to his pyjama trousers. I swallowed the fruit and smirked at what I saw hidden there in the tight fabric. I stepped closer to him, getting up in his personal space.

  “The bathroom’s down the hall, ready for  _all_  problems and emergencies. I would help you, but this movie is quite interesting. Don’t you reckon?” I said before drawing my index fingertip along the seam confining his prominent bulge. And with that I exited the kitchen feeling smug when I heard Harry’s guttural mutter of  _“Shit…”_

  My smugness solely enhanced when the sound of the bathroom door closing hit my eardrums, reaching me where I sat perched upon the pillow on the floor.

  The movie ended about twenty minutes later with Niall and Liam sleeping half on top of each other and Harry still locked in the bathroom. Zayn turned to me in the recliner, heavy-liddedly watching me.

  “I don’t think we should watch another…”

  “Agreed,” I told him.

  “Louis. You and Harry… I didn’t say anything about it before but I’m just concerned for my mates and well… are you two… alright?”

  I shifted slightly on the cushion and offered Zayn a strained smile.

  “Just dandy,” my statement sounded as strained as my smile felt.

  Before Zayn could do any more prodding, Harry entered the room and reclaimed his previously vacated seat. He appeared more relaxed and serene than he had half an hour prior. I gave him my best look of bemusement.

  “What in the world could have taken you so long?”

  By the look on his face I could clearly see he knew that I knew what had taken place in the bathroom. It was a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance, much to my entertainment. Zayn looked puzzled but not enough to make him ask what had been exchanged between Harry and I.

  With several pillows placed underneath me, to make my sleep the most comfortable, I settled in their softness, ready to doze off. Zayn had already given in to the drowsiness on his recliner and Harry was irritatedly trying to find a comfortable position against the armrest, half asleep all the while. I closed my eyes with an exhausted yet contented sigh as I let the darkness overpower me.

 

 

  The next time I opened my eyes I knew instantly that it wasn’t time to wake up yet, but the sudden pressure to my side had brought me from my slumber. I glanced down to said pressure and was startled to find Harry’s head resting in the curve of my waist. His lower body was still on the couch cushion he had earlier been occupying. His long torso was sort of hovering over the floor behind me and his arm was draped over my thighs. I could see his body slipping and wasn’t surprised when it slid down all together, joining me on the floor. I was about to wake him so he could reoccupy his original place but didn’t have the heart to do so when I caught sight of his blissful expression. I sighed at myself before nuzzling my face against the fabric of the cushion, reentering my dream.


	16. Games - Part Four

**Harry’s POV**

  Have you ever woken up and felt so inexhaustibly comfortable, content and at peace that the moment you regain consciousness, a smile stretches your lips, even before you open your eyes? That was the state I was in on this very fine morning. Although honestly, wouldn’t you be if you woke up with the world’s finest bum ever to be in history records as your pillow?

  I tore my eyes open, the smile never leaving my face, and came to the realisation that none of the other lads had awoken yet. I reluctantly lifted my head from Louis’ backside and sat up. A silent groan escaped me at the ache vibrating along my spine from the awkward sleeping position. Don’t get me wrong, sleeping on any body part of Louis was always with great pleasure and done with great humility, however the rest of  _my_  body wasn’t too fond of sleeping on the hard floor. But oh, the skin of Louis’ lower back was exposed where his shirt’d ridden up, and –  _insert dreamy sigh here_  – it emitted an intoxicating scent. It was indescribable, the aroma reaching a level of potency not ever to be handled by simple, petty words. It didn’t smell like a product, as in, it didn’t reek of artificial strawberries or coconuts. So it may have been a product, but not one that was perfumed. The smell was a natural one, yet it was addictive to a surprising degree.

  A small sleep coated groan fell from Louis’ pouted lips and he exhaled deeply. I frowned as his breath began shortening and his cheeks flushed slightly. A quiet, lust filled moan tore through the now throbbing silence of Niall’s flat as his hand moved from beside his head to rest over his recently gained morning wood.

  “... I love... how you can take me in whole... how your lips look when I’ve... fucked your mouth...  _ngh_ ,” he mumbled and made a strangled sound when his hand viciously palmed his teasingly erect member. God. I don’t know to what lengths I’d have to go to stop myself if he wasn’t clothed right now.

  I blushed as I realised a fraction of the vast power Louis had over me. That even in his sleep he could make me covet him to point of insanity.

  Rising from my seat between Louis and the sofa, I scurried as silently as possible, to the kitchen, letting out a relieved sigh and leaning against the sink with my forehead pressed to the cool surface of Niall’s wooden cupboard door. I glared down at the prominent rising in my trousers, trying to quickly think of things that turned me off, which proved to be hard since the image Louis’ face when he palmed himself kept plaguing my mind without mercy.

  A good ten minutes later, I finally detached my forehead from the cupboard, problem solved and no thoughts of a Louis in heat infiltrating my mind.

  I went to the fridge and gathered cheese, capers, pesto, mustard and butter in my arms, spreading them on the counter. After a bit of rummaging around in Niall’s kitchen I also added tomatoes, bread, basil and pepper to my collection.

  I prepared ten sandwiches with different combinations of toppings from the various foods I’d picked and slid a plate with five of them in the already heated oven.

  While waiting for the bread to warm up and the cheese to melt, I turned on the water boiler, craving a cup of morning tea. I searched through almost all of the cupboards, though unfortunately not finding the rooibos spice I wished for, settled with flavouring my hot water with the simple spice from the mountains, thyme. The herb did not give the best taste but it was rather healthy, especially if you had a cold.

  My tea choice made me think of a song. An Irish song, most probably sung by Maura in the Horan household. Must be where I’d heard it. I started humming the beautiful tune to myself while just cupping my tea.

_“Hm hm hmmm go together, to pull wild mountain thyme._

_All around the blooming heather,_

_Will you go, lassie, go...”_  I smiled to myself, proud that I’d remembered some of the words.

  The scent of cheese flooded the kitchen and I put away my cup on the counter, opening the oven and switching the baked sandwiches with the cool ones on the table. Just as I closed it, the kitchen door opened and in came Louis with a giddy smile on his face. I sat down by the table, cup in hand once again, and remarked rather awkwardly;

  “Good dream?” Louis’ smile reminded me briefly of smirk (which made me question if he’d actually had a wet dream or if he’d just continued his torturous teasing game) before it turned giddy again.

  “Oh, Haz. It was delightful. Truly... delicious for some,” his voice dropped an octave while his tongue flicked over his bottom lip once and a dark blush bloomed over my cheeks. Why was he able to do this to me?

  He sat down across from me and reached for a sandwich but I halted him.

  “Um, they might still be hot enough to burn your tongue,” I warned.

  In that moment Niall joined the breakfast party. He walked in sleepily, rubbing his eyes and mumbled, “Thought I smelled something appetising...” He quickly grabbed a slice of the tray and bit into it before I could warn him. He winced and snatched it away from his mouth as it burned him, “Ow...” He gave a sad pout.

  “Aw, poor little Nialler,” Louis cooed as he walked to the freezer and took out an ice cube from where they were stored in the top drawer. He approached Niall with the cube between his fingers. “Open up.” Niall did as told hissed at the cold when Louis dropped it on his tongue.

  Liam and Zayn entered as the second batch were ready. I took them out from the oven and placed them to cool off on the counter, swapping them with my cup, that had originally occupied the counter’s surface.

  We all sat together around the table, eating our sandwiches (after checking their temperature, naturally).

  “We’ll be having quite a number of interview’s this week. Simon informed me this morning. And on Saturday we’ll have a gig...” Liam checked off our schedule for the upcoming week.

 

  And by the flash of pure evil excitement in Louis’ eyes, I knew I would suffer.


	17. Game Over

**Harry’s POV**

_~ Two week post previous events ~_

  I couldn’t have been more accurate.

  Not only did his behaviour drive me crazy from sexual frustration, but he had my heart aching every time I look at him. I knew I loved him and I knew he was aware of that fact, as well. And he used it to his advantage. Loving someone to the point where your chest contracted and throbbed like a salt-covered wound, could not possibly be considered healthy, right? Especially when he did the simplest of things, that never failed to fill me with fondness and painful affection. They were the most endearing.

  This  _thing_  he was doing could sometimes make me so unbelievably angry, for the fact that he refused to see the agony he was causing me.

  These past days I have been gritting my teeth and restraining myself. From what? I’m not entirely sure, either from hitting him over the head or shagging him senseless on the interview floor. His subtle hints and innuendos drove me from any coherent thought every time. And then he wore clothes he knew made him look irresistible,  he went to the tattoo parlour and got new inking on his skin, he spoke in a tone that now haunts me every night,  he grew a little stubble that gave him that disgustingly perfect rugged look, he wore the tight jeans that hugged his bum deliciously and made his thighs look edible and, something that is so achingly adorable, was when he tied a little bow of the laces meant for tightening the hood on his hoodie.

  That was like the cherry on the icing, or whipped cream… or however the saying goes.

  That was the description of what he looked like today. Yesterday we’d had a signing and today we sat in a studio for a radio interview. It was the last thing on our schedule today and I couldn’t wait to get out from here to hide away behind the safe walls of my flat.

  I kept fidgeting in my seat as I tried to hide the growing tent in my jeans. You see, last night I had a very graphic dream and it won’t leave me alone, even in my wake state. And sitting next to Louis and remembering the sounds dream-Louis could make had me feeling bothered in certain areas. I was really curious about what his body looked like when it was completely wrecked, like did dream-Louis do the sight justice? Or was it beyond words and the simple understanding of the human brain?

  This was not a great thinking-topic while being in the same room as him and, not to forget, the lads and the interviewer, but how could I refrain? He was just so… mouthwatering. The way his lips moved over his teeth when he spoke and the curve of his mouth when his accent pronounced the words a tad crookedly.

  “Well why don’t we ask him himself. Is it true, Harry?” Louis enquired.

  I blinked, very aware of his sudden interest in my opinion, as his blue gaze held mine steadily and my pipes closed up.

_What is air?_

  Wait, right. I was expected to have an opinion. Erm, about what? I looked around and noticed all of them waiting for my answer. I fidgeted but was relieved when Louis stage-whispered, “Just agree with what I said.”

  So I did.

  “Uh, yeah. What he said.”

  Bad idea.

  They all burst out laughing and Louis high-fived the interviewer and Zayn with a highly amused expression on his face.

  “Oh… oh my god. I can’t believe this!” Niall bellowed between spurts of laughter.

  “Harry- you, you just confirmed… that you make kitten mewls when you cum… when you’ve wanked off!” Liam wheezed, struggling to get the words out. My eyes widened and my cheeks flushed.

  “What?! No! I don’t! I most certainly do not sound like that! I—”

  “Oh, Harry. No need to become so flustered. I  _know_  the noises you make. Especially at night. Is our little Hazza having sweet dreams?” Louis’ voice whispered lowly in my ear and I gave an involuntary shudder. His hand settled on my knee, out of the other’s eyesight. It traveled higher, all the while dragging his dull fingernails against the fabric of my jeans, making the fibres of the material vibrate lightly against my thigh in the most sinful way.

  “Well, it was nice having you here boys. Unfortunately we only had half an hour for this, but I hope we meet again!”

  Thank god. Finally! This tension was killing me.

  Liam replied with something polite while I hurried out of the building to the van, pushing past the fans that were huddled around the entrance. As soon as the other lads were seated we were on our way and I started plotting a way to confront Louis. Alone, with no escapes.

  When the vehicle came to a stop outside my flat building, I grabbed Louis’ wrist and dragged him out with me.

“What ar—”

“Oh, shut it, Lou.” I waved goodbye to the rest of them and continued our journey up the stairs, my footsteps echoing loudly in the previously silent stairwell. I unlocked the door and pushed inside, Louis following behind me with a frown on his fine face. Once he was over the threshold I jerked the door closed, relocking it and successfully managing to trap Louis between myself the wooden barrier.

  “Enough,” I fumed, my eyebrows digging on my forehead. “I’ve had enough of you and this evil game you’re playing—oh, don’t give me that look! You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  He simply looked amused, like he wanted to laugh but held it in. “What’s so funny?” I spat and he let a chuckle escape.

  “It’s- it’s just your nostrils. They flare when you’re worked up like this,” he giggled out.

  This would’ve usually just made me angrier but I simply sighed, my whole body sagging at the action.

  “Why, Louis? Like, be serious. I’ve apologised so many times but if you need more apologies to forgive me then I’ll spend the rest of our time to come up with new ways to say sorry. I need your forgiveness. I crave it, Lou,  _please_ , I was scared, so unfathomably terrified, and I admit I still am…” my voice faded as the yet-to-spill tears suffocated my vocal ability, rendering me silent. Through my blurred vision I could see that Louis’s previous amusement was gone and he had an odd conflicted expression displayed.

 

**Louis’ POV**

  Harry closed his tear rimmed eyes and swallowed thickly before speaking again.

  “But I- I believe myself brave enough to take a-a risk, because you’re worth it, Boo. It’s pure anguish when you tease me like you do. Every time it hurts because you are just  _right there_  with your stupidly perfect face and bum and hair  and tattoos and…” he continues in a whisper as he opens his eyes, “you’ve been  _right there_  all along and- and I’ve been too scared to do anything about it.”

  I don’t know what to do or what to say. I’m a tad overwhelmed to say the least. With every word he states my resolve of making him suffer crumbles, syllable for syllable. I wanted to hold on to my plan and in a way, avenge my past self for all the pain I had to go through, but looking at such a vulnerable and broken Harry shook my plan off its hinges. I knew for a fact that he wasn’t faking, acting never really being his thing. To me there was nothing but genuine distress and devastation to it. I made a huge intake of air and held my breath before asking,

  “Our time?” I croaked and he gave me a questioning look. “You—you said, you’d spend the rest of our time... I don’t think I understand.”

  The room felt so suffocatingly small and the air so thick, it was a struggle getting it through my windpipe. I stared at Harry’s face for what felt like an eternity, waiting for him to reply and watching as he opened his mouth to do so, in the most agonisingly slow speed.

  “Louis... Lifetimes come to an end. Time doesn’t... ever.”

  My eyes widened comically at what his deep, slow voice was implying. He continued, confirming my suspicions verbally.

  “Even when we die, I won’t stop feeling what I’m feeling. And I know people would call me young and stupid and naïve, but I  _know_ , Lou, I  _fucking_  know and... I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life as I am of this.” He enclosed his hand around mine and his voice pleading as he said,

  “Boobear, I’m yours… if you’ll have me.”

_“If you’ll have me…”_

 

**Game over, Louis.**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Harry’s POV**

  His eyes were wide and he’d stopped breathing, the blue orbs scanning my face for any sign of deceit. When he found none, his mouth opened and then shut tightly again.

   _Please say yes, pleas say yes, please! Just… just take me._

  Slowly, painfully so, he gave a slight a tentative nod. I breathed out a relieved sigh and beamed brightly. An airy chuckle escaped my lips but, however, as soon as it died down the situation felt heavy with awkwardness. With Louis sandwiched between me and the door and me not really knowing what my next action was supposed to or expected to be. Like was this the moment I was supposed to kiss him and we’d have one of those ‘moments’? Or was I supposed to just step away and probably make the situation even  _more_ awkward? I’d never been with a guy before and wasn’t really aware if a guy would appreciate being treated slightly like a girl. I’d never had that ‘confused phase’ in my adolescent years. If this situation had been with a girl I’d kiss her, but… Louis wasn’t a girl. Sure, I did kiss him that one time, but that didn’t really end well, now did it. With me locked in a bathroom, too scared and disgusted with myself to even face the mirror, let alone Louis. Sweet, perfect Louis.

  Even with all these racing thoughts and speculations tumbling back and forth in a whirlwind, I found myself leaning closer before I could comprehend what I was doing. The moment made me feel five years younger, inexperienced and unconfident. Louis made me feel that way.

  Our lips just simply touched, at first. Nothing more than just a shy nudge of the lips, then Louis’ lips started moving coyly. He seemed almost timid, afraid that I would soon jump away from him and go hide somewhere. Anger blossomed inside me, solely directed at myself, and also guilt. I felt guilty that I had made him doubt himself and that I’d held him back from being the best he could be. And I responded with passion and strength, reassuring him that I wanted this – that I wanted  _him_  – and that he wasn’t doing anything out of line. This kiss was nothing like the last, this one was sweet, bashful and  _young_. There was no other way to describe it. There was no tongue, no teeth and no heat. It was young and childish, probably the sweetest thing I’d ever experienced.

  I didn’t want to break the kiss, afraid of any awkwardness next moment could bring, but this kiss had the potential of becoming more heated. And I wanted to remember this moment for what it was – precious and puerile. So I pulled back and smiled at the endearing blush tinting Louis’ cheeks, highly sure that I wore a matching one.

  I took a step back to give him some air room and offered, for lack of better things to say;

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  “Oh, erm, no, I really should be getting back,” he declined with a pleasantly shy smile.

  “Okay,” I smiled even though I felt a tad disappointed that I couldn’t spend more time with him.

  He turned to the door and hesitated with his hand on the door handle. He faced me once again with a reluctant, troubled expression, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to word his thoughts or if he should at all.

  “Spit it out, Lou,” I said, amused.

  “Er, just to clear any future confusion, like, where do we stand? Can I call you my boyfriend-- I’m not saying we have to tell anyone,” he reassured quickly, “but like, can I think of you as my boyfriend… in my head?” He looked so vulnerable, like my answer would make it or break it for him, yet also so hopeful. Who was I to crush that hope?

  “I’ll be anything you want me to be,” I quoted the famous line. His whole face lit up with an odd sort of innate light made my heart skip a beat.

  “Well, then I’ll see you tomorrow… boyfriend,” he giggled in the most adorable way, causing my heart to momentarily fail me. Then he turned the handle and was about to walk into the door since it was still locked, but caught himself in the last moment. His cheeks burned in embarrassment and I just wanted to pick him up, put him in my pocket and keep him there forever. He wriggled the lock and sent a nervous smile my way before he disappeared.

  I fell down on the sofa with a lovesick sigh and clutched a pillow to my chest as my mind never left the thought of Louis and kept replaying the precious and puerile kiss, over and over again.

~

  A week passed and stolen glances and kisses were shared whenever we were concealed or simply unwatched. And I savoured every second of it. There was still a part of me that hated myself for loving Louis and I despised that part, for it kept me from completely giving myself to him. I was torn in that sense, though when I had these conflicted emotions, a lucid smile from Louis was all I needed to be reassured. The fans noticed, of course – those loveable observant little bastards – that both my and Louis’ behaviours had brightened considerably. Twitter and Tumblr were in turmoil, coming up with wild and over-thought conspiracies. There were a lot of people that were overjoyed and posted stuff like,  _“YAY! OMGOMG LARRY GPT TOGETER I PROMIS THT IS WAHT HAPPEND!!!! IM DEAD. DEAD I TELL YOU, DEAD!!!”_  which would quickly be suppressed by homophobic arseholes,  _“Seriously! Would you stop?! Louis and Harry are NOT together. That is disgusting and perfect boys like them would never be together with the same gender! You repulse me for even suggesting it and accusing them of being something they’re not! And learn to fucking write!!!”_  Quite depressing, really.

~

   **At a talk show:**

  “— so we’re not going to discuss anyone’s sexuality here, however people are really curious of what your thoughts are  about the topic. So, what is your opinion of homosexuality and homophobia—”

   _Please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me, please don’t pick me–_

  “—Harry?”

_Why?_

  I glanced over at Lou, who was seated next to me, and a tranquil peace flooded through me. When I faced Stacy, the interviewer again I spoke my heart.

  “I think…” I took a deep breath, “I can somehow get where homophobic belief systems are coming from however much I disagree with it,” I sounded a bit uncertain.

  Stacy frowned and, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that homosexuality has been illegal for a very long time and that’s why kids often get bullied in school for their sexuality. Because there are many of them that have old fashioned parents, grandparents or even peers. Anyone they’d look up to, really. Sometimes it can be hard to let go of what you’ve always known, and allow change. I think that love is love no matter what shape, form, gender, nationality or age. Sometimes it can be hard to accept it yourself but – in my opinion – that is other people’s beliefs forced upon you, making you believe that something you want to be right, is wrong. And that only ends in hurt feelings. You get what I’m saying?”

  Stacy nodded her head and I looked over at Louis with a loving smile as warmth spread in my chest.

  “You should never be ashamed of who your heart belongs to.”

  And an equally loving smile tugged at Louis’ features at the charged emotion he understood behind my words. The audience broke out in deafening applauds after my little speech, yet all I could focus on was Louis’ next words.

  “Unconditional love really is something, isn’t it?”

 

   _If_  it was?

 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Louis’ POV**

  We were cuddling on my balcony-sofa when we received the call. It was a nice afternoon with – surprisingly enough – decent weather and we had laid down in the cool sunshine. We shared small kisses and words and it was weird to feel so at peace yet my heart was beating its way to hysteria and the butterflies were having panic attacks and fluttering viciously in my stomach. All in all, it was wonderful. Up until Harry’s phone started blaring obnoxiously when we were in the middle of a snogging fest. Harry groaned and reached for the device.

  “What?” is all he answered the caller with. I was flattered that he became irritated because his time with me was lessened, when he’d usually direct that hostility toward me. His expression morphed from annoyed into dead seriousness during the call. His eyes fluttered to mine before muttering, “Yeah. I’ll tell him. We’re on our way. Bye.”

  “What was that about?” I asked, concerned for his drastic mood change.

  “Management wants to talk to us about…  _Larry Stylinson_.” The way he said it made me feel discouraged. Like he didn’t want this after all. The sensation was quickly wiped away, however, when he slipped his hand in mine and leading me out of the flat, causing a warm flutter in my chest to erupt.

 

  “Droze,” Harry greeted coldly as we slid into the meeting room. The man nodded in acknowledgement and gestured for us to take a seat with the Management team around the glass table. We did as suggested and glanced at the people seated. An intense silence fell, it felt like my skin was crawling with uneasiness as everyone waited for someone else to start the conversation and just as Mr. Droze had opened his mouth to spea—

  “Wearetogether,” Harry blurted. Everybody stared at him, wide eyed and he blushed. “Panicked, sorry,” he muttered, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Droze gave me a triumphant grin as Mr. Hank on the right side of the table, chuckled, “Yeah, we know. I doubt anybody missed it in your little ‘Sexuality’ speech.”

  “That is why we are here, actually. And before we start this discussion, we just want you to know that  _every_ one in this room supports your relationship to the fullest,” – all heads nodded eagerly to emphasise – “but still, the effects of this relationship are what concerns us. We don’t know how serious you two are about each other nor if you are going to come out to the public, but if you do – which is entirely your decision – we just want to ensure that you know all the possible consequences of this.”

  I nodded understandingly, however I could feel Harry’s cool and patience being sucked dry beside me. Droze continued, “We always try to ensure that our clients are happy, however, image has become a very important thing for this business and, well, we want you to be aware of the possible shed loads of hate you will receive for being in a gay relationship.” Harry cringed uncomfortably at being labeled  _‘gay’_  and all I wanted to do was kiss his discomfort away. Although I knew that would solely upset him more, since the gesture would only fuel the accusation with evidence. “Hate could come from people who previously called themselves fans or people who had nothing to do with this band at all. Fans could decide to leave the fanbase or be talked out of it by homophobic parents. Especially if the fan is a child. They could forbid them to listen to your music and that, lads, would effect the whole band.”

  Another silence fell in the room as the words sunk in. I was seething and when I faced Harry I notice he was, too, although more aggressively so.

  “But some more open-minded parents could also encourage it to show their kid that there are all sorts of affection. You’ll probably gain fans, too. People who support gay relationships and that stuff. To sum it up, it’s going to be a major reaction, both bad  _and_ good,” Mr. Fletcher tried to soothe quickly from beside Mr. Droze. He was unsuccessful however, and I had to suppress my own fury when Harry exploded, expressing my feelings verbally.

  “You’re saying that basically people will judge the whole band  _and_  our music because two of the band members happened to fall in love!? What the fuck happened to  _‘love conquers all’_?”

  My heart fluttered at his last words. It was heartwarming that he made such an effort for us to have an  _‘us’._

  “No, Harry, listen. We’re just stating the consequences if you decide to come out. We want you to be prepared for what might happen,” a blonde Management member reasoned.

  “Oh, I am  _fucking_ prepared!” He stood up so forcefully that his chair fell with a clatter behind him, but he took no notice. “C’mon, Lou, let’s go.” Harry grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room but before the door closed I heard a sigh from Management and, “That could’ve gone better.”

  After dragging me all the way down to the lobby of the building, I halt him.

  “Wait, wait. What are you about to do?” I asked, trying to prevent any stupid impulses. Harry just stared at me with wide eyes before his body sagged, as if giving up. He gave me a glassy look and said in a voice thick with emotion,

  “I-I don’t know, Louis. I just – I just feel as if I have to prove someone wrong, or show people that  _we_  are not wrong. I don’t want to be judged, yet I don’t want to hide at the same time. I’m torn between to awful choices. And then I think of the lads. Liam, Niall and Zayn, they’ve worked so hard. Liam was on X-Factor twice because he wanted this and now they’re living their dream and I don’t want to take that away from them but I—I...” the tears that had been moisturising his eyes, finally welled over and his voice died out, not being able to talk through all the emotions. My previous fury was fueled by his words and I wrapped my arms around him to soothe his pain, I hated that he had to deal with all of this. He laid his head on my shoulder and sniffled against my neck, then he grabbed any fabric of my clothing he could and swallowed thickly before continuing, “I love you… and I don’t want to give up on that for the sake of anything else.”

  His voice broke in several places yet it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. It was the first time I heard him say it  _(as in, not written on a paper and slid under a bathroom door)_  and the feeling was quite overwhelming.

  “It was so hard to finally accept myself and accept the fact that I love you and now that I do, I have to hide it.”

  That was the last straw.

  “No, Harry,” I said, my voice hard and determined.

  “What?”

  “You’re not gonna have to live like this,” I tightened my grip on his hand and marched out of the building before Harry had time to respond.

  “Wait, Louis! Where are we going?” he asked when we passed our car. I just kept on walking on the sidewalk and didn’t say anything, my hand firmly clutching Harry’s larger one. People started noticing who we were and soon we were swarmed as well as paps began showing up, pressing the cameras in our faces. The screams and noises were deafening.

_Soon. Just another few seconds._

And then came the black van I’d been waiting for. It was odd feeling  _relief_  when the TV-crew bounded out of the vehicle instead of the dread I was used to. The SugarScape-woman neared with her microphone stretched toward me so I climbed, with much difficulty, on top of the hood of a nearby car and reached for the device, unfortunately having to let go of Harry’s hand. I put the mike to my lips and heaved a deep breath before opening my mouth and spilling the truth to everyone.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Narratorial**

Liam gazed at the sandwiches he was preparing for him and Zayn. The bread was toasted and smelled of freshly melted butter. Liam spread a decent layer Nutella on his own bread before calling to Zayn for what topping he preferred.

   “Marshmallow fluff!” he bellowed from the living room.

  “You know I don’t have any that. Go to the store if you want any!” Liam replied with the same volume Zayn had used. The older lad huffed and called his lie. “I know where you keep it, Liam!”

  “Damn,” he swore quietly. But before he could go fetch the marshmallow fluff, before he could do anything at all, he was rushing into the living room after hearing the alarmingly high pitched noise his band mate had emitted. The latter was pointing open-mouthed at the telly, which was displaying the familiar face of their best friend, Louis Tomlinson.

  He was standing atop a car’s hood and talking fiercely to the camera as well as the audience that had gathered around. What on earth had happened?

  “—not always rainbows and butterflies when you’re in love. I’m sure many of you could agree on that. Especially when your relationship is discriminated and frowned upon, when everybody around you looks at you with disapproving eyes that tell you that you did wrong when you fell in love,” Louis said on the screen, the power in his voice booming around the flat. “That you failed at love and your failure repulses and appalls everyone. Like back in high school when a new younger teacher starts to teach your favourite class and you can’t help but be attracted to them even though you know it’s wrong because there’s a fucking age difference and it’s  _illegal_ but really, love has no limits apart from the ones you yourself place there. If you  _really_  love someone you’re willing to overcome any petty obstacles, even the ones within yourself, to be able to give yourself fully and completely to that one person, you forget your well-being, health and wealth to simply focus all your energy into loving them.”

  As Louis paused to catch his breath and a few of the girls in the gathered mess chorused,  _“Who is she, Louis, who is she?”_  He glanced at them and a tiny smile of sadness tugged at his lips. His hand shook slightly when he held the microphone firmly to his mouth again.

  “It is a tad rude to just assume things like that, ladies,” his voice was smaller than before, as if only speaking to them yet letting everyone hear him through the electronic device. “The reason I’m speaking to you like this and the reason I’ve… we have been reluctant to tell anyone is because… I’m not in love with a girl.”

  The silence that followed was like an itch to the skin even for Zayn and Liam – or maybe especially for them since it was their band mate coming out, live on TV – who were seated on the floor by the telly with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Zayn pressed his phone to his ear after typing in a number he knew by heart. He gulped and wet his lips.

  “Niall, switch on the telly. Now.”

  The people surrounding Louis had undoubtedly increased in numbers and now chatter was rising among them, finally showing a reaction. A lot of the adults in the crowd gazed upon the lad with judging, contempt filled eyes. Some of the girls looked heartbroken, angry, defeated, disgusted, - more negative adjectives -; others beamed up at Louis with adoration and pride. As if they’d known all along and were now pleased that he’d had the courage to come out to the world. Some people started screaming words, both joyous and disdainful. The words were soon interpretable as  _“Well, who is he then, Louis?”_

Liam and Zayn looked at each other with disbelieving eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening. Sure, they knew something was going on with Harry and Louis, since they weren’t ignoring each other nor were they ripping the other’s throat out. But dating each other? Everyone knew they both had feelings for one another but it was a surprise that they had worked it out to a decent result; a relationship.

  Louis’ tongue swiped once over his bottom lip nervously, before he spoke again, this time with his gaze focused upon one face in the crowd near the car below him.

  “Look, I know this isn’t going to be easy, Harry—” several cheers erupted from the onlookers as Louis hunched and enclosed his fingers around Harry’s, whose eyes were glassed with liquid “—and I know you’re scared but, I hope you are aware that whatever happens, I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I’ll be there when all the hate will be sent our way; I’ll be there in times of support, in times of distress. At times when you feel like no one loves you, when depression of other’s hurtful words strikes you, I’ll be there to love you with my entire being, even when you feel like you cannot even love yourself. Our relationship isn’t wrong, not in the slightest. We’re just two lads. And me… I’m in love with you, mate.” Louis’ lips tugged a tad as the camera zoomed in on his face. His features then morphed into an expression of fierce determination as he stood up tall, releasing his grip on the lad’s hand. With a scowl digging at his forehead and creating creases around the nasal area, he spat at the gathered masses accusingly,

  “And if any of you homophobic wazzocks have something to say, you can do it now! Where you cannot hide behind a computer screen and a mundane username. If you have any opinion that you plan to send to us through social websites then fine! Embed yourself deeper in your vile cowardice! Love may come in the least expected way and you would be too narrow-minded to accept that, and simply let love pass you by. I  _will not_  let love pass me by. Love is equal – nothing less, nothing more. It is what it is.”

  Louis stepped down from his metal “stage” after handing the SugarScape-woman’s mike back to her, clutched his boyfriend’s palm and simply walked away from the TV-screen’s range. The vision was soon filled by the woman’s petite frame as she explained what had just taken place animatedly. But she was soon gone as the telly in Liam’s flat was now shut off by two very silent boys. They stared at the black screen, unable to react in fear of an explosion – if the explosion was a psychological one they feared from the other, we will never know.

 

**Louis’ POV**

  I have no idea if what I did was the ‘right’ thing to do, if that was what Haz really wanted or if he maybe was mad at me for practically forcing him out of the closet. As we were now seated in my car and nothing was displayed on his face, I had no inkling of what was right and what was wrong, what was up and what was down. Looking at Harry’s face, you’d think he was incapable of emotion, had he not had the evidence of stray tears lingering by his darkened lash line. Nothing had been said and the thick silence in the vehicle was suffocating me. But I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Neither did Harry. The silence was broken several times by our continuously beeping mobile phones but we simply ignored them. However when Liam’s ringtone flooded the car from Harry’s pocket, he sighed and reluctantly fished the phone out.

  “Yeah?” His voice sounded drained but was still charged with all the emotions that were not evinced by his face. None of those emotions were ones I could decipher, unfortunately. I heard Liam’s frantic voice on the other end being his usual protective self.

  “I’m fine, Liam.” Harry’s eyes flitted to mine and a smile ate away his expressionless lips. “Actually, I’m more than fine. I’m terrific! I could even say that I’m the happiest man on earth ri-right now.” He choked on his last words as his smile trembled with tearful joy and my chest swelled painfully. The look of utter adoration and endearment adorning his features was overpowering me, yet it always felt right.

  I parked the car as we were at Harry’s flat and his call was over. We walked inside with our fingers linked together, content in our silence.

  “Would you like a cuppa?” he asked while locking the door and hanging up his coat. I nodded and bounded away to the sofa as Harry headed for the kitchen.

  When he came back, two steaming cups in his hands, I sat perched on the comfy surface with furrowed brows and teeth nipping my lip thoughtfully. He sat down next to me and handed me my tea, sobering me from my thought-drunk state. We sipped for a while before I said into the stillness,

  “I’m sorry.”

  Harry looked at me with wide eyes, clearly bewildered.

  “What for?”

  “For not asking for your permission before I outed you,” I whispered as I watched particles of the spices floating around in the beverage, “For being a right git and hurting you when I should have been loving you, because that is what you needed; someone to love you.”

  I continued watching the liquid when Harry shifted his weight next to me, creating depressions in the sofa cushions where his body made impact. Warmth flooded me as I felt a pair of soft lips prodding at my cheekbone, soothing the cold uncertainty with affectionate reassurance.

  “Boobear,” Harry’s slow voice carried through the room at leisure while he placed his cup on the coffee table, “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m quite glad I didn’t have to stand in front of those people the way you so bravely did. I have to admit I am still as scared as I was before and will probably have a mental breakdown soon when the reality of the situation hits home but I know it’ll be alright because if you meant what you said back there, you’ll be there to catch me when things get tough. Right?”

  I almost smiled sadly as I heard the veiled insecurity laced through his words. We were both scarred by each other’s hurtful words, even if they hadn’t been repeated in quite the while. We were desperate for the other’s trust, even though both of us knew it would take time before  _trust_  could be a completely natural and given thing in this relationship. He was desperate for me to trust him and I was desperate for him to trust me.

   “‘Course, Hazza. I’ll always catch you.” Now it was my turn to reassure with tender affection coating my tone in thick layers, seeping through to the core meaning of my syllables.  Harry let out a sigh of relief and a contented indication settled over his delicate, gentle features as he leaned forward and embraced me dotingly. Fortunately I had drunken enough tea to avoid any stains on the sofa when such action was set in motion. I encased him in my arms – careful of my beverage, naturally – as well when he whispered a soft,

  “D’you reckon you could stay the night? I’d rather not be alone if I do have mentioned breakdown.”

  I chuckled heartily at that as I pulled away to look at him.

  “Is this your way of getting in my pants? Real _smooth_  for someone with your reputation,” I said, sarcasm dripping like nectar from my voice. When I saw his lips drawn into a displeased pout, however, I stopped laughing to brush my lips against it, relishing in the feel of his soft skin. “Of course I’ll be here to kiss away any breakdowns, love,” I breathed through a growing smile against his lips. An impish and triumphant grin settled upon his own mouth and I’ve got to say, I  _love_  his choice of adornment.

_I love him._

  “I’ll get your pyjamas, then!”

 

  And the next moment he was skipping joyously down to his bedroom leaving me with a fond expression visibly etching my features.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Louis’ POV**

  The pure warmth that engulfed me was what I’d love to wake up to every morning. The sun’s rays flitted through the curtains like children playing hide and seek, letting my shoulder blades bask in the comfort for a moment before the cottoned veil would extinguish it with its faint shadow. I hummed at the tranquillity that nested within me, buried deep in my pores. I tightened my hold on the yielding body and nudged by nose lovingly against the smooth ringlets, inhaling a lungful of the strawberry tinged odour.

  “You smell lovely,” my morning voice whispered between the fine locks as my fingertips carded through them of their own accord.

  “Have you ever smelled yourself?” came a raspy reply from somewhere near my collarbone.

  “No, that would certainly be considered dodgy,” I chuckled.

  “Fine. More Louis-infused air for me.” He drew in a huge breath and exhaled a contented sigh that tickled my skin pleasantly.

  “Hmm will you make me breakfast, Harry?” I drawled leisurely while trailing my fingers along the pretty expanse of skin upon Harry’s arm.

  “M’kay, but only if you’re sated with scrambled eggs because I’m simply too lazy to make anything fancy right now.”

  “Deal, love,” I pressed my lips chastely against his forehead, sealing the agreement. “While you do that, I’m going to take a shower,” I said before reluctantly pulling myself from the warm sheets and skin. Harry whined but heaved himself up as well to start that breakfast.

  The shower was short but relaxing; very much needed after the yesterday’s dramatic endeavours. When I stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel hanging from my hips, I heard a liquid  _“crack!”_  over the buzz of the radio speaker.

  “Harry?”

  When no reply sounded through the flat I scurried into the kitchen, alarmed that something was wrong.

  And  _wrong_  something certainly was.

  Harry sat curled up with his back against the washing machine, hugging his knees to his body. I rushed to him and scooped him in a comforting embrace, deeming him not outright sobbing, but something quite near it. I carried him to the bedroom – careful not to step in the cracked egg that littered the floor – and laid him upon the unmade bed before joining him a second later, letting him weep onto my bare chest.

  “Harry, love, speak to me. What happened? Why are you upset?” It was obvious in my voice that I was on the verge of tears myself, just from Harry being unhappy.  He swallowed a few times before,

  “On—on the wireless—,” the corners of my lips tugged, because seriously, who said  _the wireless_  anymore? “—and they were dis-discussing Larry Stylinson and interviewing people and their thoughts and there was an old geezer who—who said—,” Harry hiccupped, his words dying on his tongue.

  “What did he say, Harry?” I said, both with concern and contempt evident in my tone.

  “He said we don’t act like—like a real couple and that we’re too young and stupid to realise that this whole thing is just short te-term. S– said we would realise later how disgusting we were when being together and then he started ranting about how we didn’t look good together, how my t-tall abnormal frame looked so awkward next to you because you’re the older one and ugh, shit like that,” Harry had to pause for some breathing space because he’d worked himself up pretty bad.

  “And  _then!_ Then he said that our parents should have raised us better than to fall in love with the same gender and then he called mum and Jay such discriminating words and wished them to hell. As well as wished us to hell to burn along them for the sins we’ve committed. Oh, Louis! All I did was love! Why am I being punished for that?”

  “Ssh, love, don’t worry,” I tried to soothe through my rage. “Harry, Hazza – Honey, I love you. I love you so much and it doesn’t matter what people say, alright? I love you, baby.”

   A sniffle then, “I love you.”

  Something was awfully wrong with that statement. Incredibly so, to the point where my stomach twisted with the discomfort upon hearing it. And perhaps it was a tad odd that I felt so strongly against it but… it was something about the way he said it. Like, a lot of people do respond with the exact same words yet, when Harry said it, it sounded as if the sentence was incomplete; an inadequate hollow of belief.

  “Harry?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why did you leave out the  _‘too’_?”

  “What?”

  “Why wasn’t your respond  _‘I love you, too’_?”

  The room was filled with silence for a moment.

  “Saying  _‘I love you, too’_ would imply that I believe you when you say you love me.”

  I started crying then. Legit bawling. My chest clenched so painfully for the lad in my arms who thought no one could love him because of his sexuality. Even though I was also gay. I hugged him tightly in my arms muttering incoherent  _‘but Harry—I love you—I love you so much—I love your curls,  your smile,  your laughter,  your odd humour, your—’_

“Hey, easy. Don’t make this into one of those cheesy movie moments where you list everything you love.”He smiled, watery, as the  _‘about me’_ hung in the air and my heart was agonised against my ribcage because it just  _hurt._  Everything  _hurt._

“Well, then I’ll just have to spend the rest of  _our time_  to convince you.”

  Both of our voices were tear coated and after my last sentence Harry burst into a new round of sobs, liquid kisses were shared and comfort was given. I positioned myself atop him and kissed along his jaw and neck, making the delicious skin erupt in goose bumps. I trailed my fingertips over his chest and abdomen, enjoying every depression, crease valley in the smooth flesh.

  My lips latched onto the dainty area near the collar bone, sucking hungrily before sinking my teeth into the abused spot. Harry’s breath hitched at the sting and moaned as I nursed the bruise by licking it repeatedly with my tongue flat against the skin. My fingers found their way to his briefs, tugging suggestively upon the elastic. He broke the kiss urgently and gazed into my eyes nervously.

  “I’ve – I’ve never – done anything with another guy and—”

  “Ssh, love, that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to—”

  “No, Lou, I want to but I’m scared because I have no experience and it might not be satisfying for you.”

  “Do you think I’ve got more experience? I had a few escapades  before I auditioned  sure, but I never lost my virginity.”

  “Wait, so… I would be your first? Like you’d be mine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  *WARNING: SMUT AHEAD*

  Harry beamed up at me and I returned the smile with as much warmth and affection. I threw my leg over him, straddling his waist to have better access to his mouth. The kisses turned more reckless as arousal seeped through the devastated atmosphere and I ground my hips down erotically against Harry, our groins rubbing deliciously. The towel I was wearing couldn’t handle so much action as it gradually slipped off my hips, making me moan filthily at the sensation of my member rubbing against the fibres of Harry’s clothed erection. Harry was panting underneath me and took my open mouth as an opportunity to dip his tongue inside, urging my tongue to join the heated tango. I played along but after a while I made my way down his body, once again at his briefs. I looked up at him to see if he was okay with this and he nodded frantically, desperate to be relieved of his tight confinements. I complied when I caught sight of the tent, pulling down the fabric and letting his excitement taste some fresh air. Not for long though, as I soon had my lips wrapped around the tip, drawing more of him in and sucking as hard as my mouth allowed me. The sounds that fell from his lips were sinful, a jumble of incoherent words mixed with erotic noises that travelled straight to my swelling shaft. Then a hand was tugging at my damp hair, signalling for me to stop. I pulled off with an audible  _‘pop’_  and looked up at his face, bewildered.

  “Um, I—um we could— I had a dream not—not so long ago and—well, could we—?” He was panting and stuttering at the same time, making it a tad hard to interpret his words.

  “Yes, Harry, we can play out your dirty dream,” I confirmed with a light chuckle. “Where do you want me?”

  Okay, this was interesting.

  I was now positioned so instead of seeing his face while I sucked him off, I watched his legs. Yeah, I get that he’d like to have my bum in his face but this position would make me miss all of his pleasured expressions. I shrugged it off and put his – now slightly limper – penis in my mouth, sucking with vigour to get him fully hard again.

  I let out a high-pitched yelp of surprise when I felt the wet tongue lap and lick at my bum hole, but a warm hand soothed me by kneading the skin of my lower back, so I tried to relax. I got to work on the neglected member in front of me, my arse cheeks tensing with every flick of his tongue as he trailed moisture along my ball sack. My own tongue was currently assaulting the pink slit of his penis as it glistened with saliva, my hands running up and down the rest of it to not let any part of him feel unloved. A slender finger prodded at my entrance and I gasped in surprise at the sensation. Had he been lying about not having experience away or does he just have really  _really_ good imagination?

  The digit entered and I tried to ignore it so I could pleasure him properly, taking in as much of him in my mouth as I could. However that proved impossible when he started scissoring and moving around, eliciting a vibrational moan from deep in my throat. This caused him to moan as well because of all the attention his erection was getting.

  Imagine the sounds we both chorused when he found my prostate.

  I had just been nearly successful in deep-throating him and then the most intense, erotic sensation washed over me and I gagged on him, trying to yell in pleasure around the thick object. Harry chimed in with his deep, sexy groans that were loud enough for all our neighbours to hear. Just ragged breaths, un-interpretable words, noisy rounds of moans and groans were heard.

  I placed a saliva slicked finger at his hole, wanting him to experience the same kind of pleasure I was. I pushed past the ring of muscle, feeling around at the velvety walls as a new string of mewls and whimpers were heard behind me. I managed to find his sweet spot much faster and pumped my finger against it. I added another finger and stretched lightly while swirling my tongue along the head of his shaft, all the while abusing his prostate with my fingertips.

  “…ugh, ah, ah  _ouh_ , Louu… I—I ugh,  _ngh,_ I’m gonna—I’m about to—ugh, cum! Not… ah, yet… I want you, ahh, inside…”

  “Are you – sure?” I panted.

  “Fuck,  _yes_  Boo! Ngh.”

  So I climbed off of him, his fingers sliding out of me, and placed myself between his legs. I looked up at his face, trying to gaze into his heavy lidded eyes.

  “Harry? Babe, where have you got your lube and condoms?”

  “I don’t wanna use a condom,” he said before shuffling closer to the edge of the bed and taking out a black box from under it. In one swift motion, he opened the lid and threw the tube to me, then repositioning himself into our previous stance. I leaned over him and pressed a warm kiss to his responding mouth.

  “I love you,” I whispered against his lips, making them spread into a gorgeous smile.

  “And I love you,” he answered and I groaned.

  “I’m going to show you exactly how much I love you and you will no longer be able to deny it,” I vowed before opening the lube and squeezing out some of the substance on my awaiting fingers. I smeared Harry’s entrance with it, making him shiver from the temperature, before I did the same with my erect member.

  I positioned myself at his hole, kissing his face all over to distract him from the pain, and with an “I love you, Harry,” I pushed the tip inside his hot cavern. He whimpered as his face contoured into a pain filled scowl, his muscles tightening upon the intrusion. I slid more of my erection inside of him slowly, kissing him and continuously repeating,  _“I love you I love you I love you I love you…”_

  I tried not to cum from the feel of his slippery walls throbbing and pulsating around me, so I stayed completely still, not allowing any intentional friction as Harry gradually adjusted.

  After about a minute or so he nodded, signalling that he was ready. I moved my hips experimentally and groaned at the intense pleasure I was experiencing from the tiny amount of friction. Harry didn’t look so comfortable so I tried moving a bit more, searching for his prostate. When all that caused was more pained mewls I sighed exasperatedly, because I was determined to make him feel good, too. I pulled one of his legs over my shoulder, trying with a new angle on things, and basically twerked into him.

  “AAHHH! OH MY GOODNESS—LOUIS—I, UGH, AH, LOVE YOU—NGH!”

  Found it.

  With Harry also moaning and, well,  _enjoying_  it, it made everything so much more enjoyable for me as well. Every pull out and thrust inwards drew us closer to our – what we knew would be – massive orgasm.  _“God, I love you so much, Harry. So much. I love you I love you I love you…”_ Soon the responding thrusts Harry had set in action turned a tad sloppy, indicating Harry was drawing nearer by every second. Harry reached around and grabbed a hand full of my arse, kneading and squeezing. My hand wrapped tightly around his throbbing erection, pumping it and—

  Then white spurts where flying everywhere as my name was screamed into my ear, muscles tightening around my shaft, suffocating it. The hot encasement was enough to make me shoot my own load inside of Harry. For a little while I was completely blind, couldn’t see anything but white. Then gradually my vision returned and I was met by the sight of a dazed-looking Harry, with ravaged lips and a few love bites littering his sweaty complexion. We breathed heavily and I said, “We should probably go shower. You’re going to leak all over the sheets.”

  “Me? I’m going to damage the sheets? It’s your cum if I remember correctly!” Harry chuckled.

  “Why, you have quite the good memory,” I cooed before pulling out of him – causing him to hiss – and scooping him up in my arms to carry him to the bathroom.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Louis’ POV**

  “Harry?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love  _you_.”

  I groaned and laid my head on the table.

  “Wrong answer,” I said before rising from my seat and walking over to Harry. I cupped his face in my hands and peppered any skin on his face possible with demanding kisses and pecks, muttering,  _“Love you, love you, love you,”_  whenever I had air. And Harry cracked.

  “Oh my god, Lou! Fine, I love you, too. Did you hear that? I love you,  _too!_ Are you happy now?”

  “Very much so!” I exclaimed before flinging myself in his arms and he groaned painfully, shifting in his seat.

  “Ow! You can’t just  _do_  that, Boobear.  _Someone_  ravaged my bum not too long ago and you’re making it hurt real bad. Ugh,” he cringed. “I’m so topping next time.”

  The door opened then and three lads stumbled inside in time to hear me say:

  “That’s fine by me. I’m quite curious about how that felt, especially because of the  _sounds_ you made.”

  “Okay, we did not need to know that,” Liam said and he rubbed his eyes, as if trying to make the mental image go away. He looked pointedly at us over the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, before placing himself on the sofa were Niall and Zayn joined him.

  I looked over at Harry, who wore an expression that said  _‘Well, I guess we’ll have to talk about it sooner or later,’_  so I sighed and stood from my seat on his lap. He took my hand in his and we walked into the living room – Harry limped a tiny bit – sitting down on the loveseat, he hissed slightly as his backside was placed upon the cushion.  I glanced up at everybody, a bit nervous at the seriousness displayed. Zayn broke the silence first.

  “So, lads. When did this happen?” He gestured toward me and Harry with an easy smile, lightening the mood considerably. Harry grinned at him giddily.

  “About three weeks ago,” he said, sounding like a child; giggly and completely content with the world.

  Three sets of eyebrows rose and Liam’s face looked a tad hurt.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” he spoke up.

  “Well—”

  “Because I was a coward,” Harry cut me off, looking down at his lap. “I was so scared of what people would think, of what  _you_  would think. I didn’t want anyone to be disappointed in me.”

  All of us looked at him incredulously.

  “Why would we be disappointed in you?”

  “I don’t know, for being gay maybe?”

  Niall snorted loudly, “Well, that was energy wasted since all of us knew and accepted that Louis swung that a long time ago.”

  Harry opened his mouth to reply but Niall’s words seemed to just hit him as nothing came out and his eyes grew big. His gaze snapped down to his hands and groaned before burying his face in them. “How did I never realise that?” he mumbled between his fingers and the room filled with light laughs as the sight was quite amusing.

  “Aw, Harry, I reckon you need a thorough cuddle!” I exclaimed as all of us threw ourselves at him, determined to cuddle any insecurities right out of him. He yelped before letting a grunt escape him at the pressure being placed on his sore parts.

  “Ow! Lads, I am wounded. Please don’t—ow.”

  Harry’s pout is probably the cutest thing I’ve ever beheld.

  -~-

  After the lads had heard the whole story of how Harry and I became HarryandLouis they again reassured us that they were fine with it and that they supported us; I think Harry in particular needed to hear that. Then they left, each of them having other situations to tend to on the few days off before touring again.

  Which left me alone with Harry. Something I remember dreading and anticipating at the same time before, yet now, nothing would make me happier.

  Harry wrapped his hand around mine, radiating a pleasant warmth from his palm, and led me to the sofa where he placed the both of us, one on top of the other. The chest underneath me rose as he heaved a pleased sigh.

  “I love you, Louis,” he murmured while idly running his fingers across the skin on my arm, lightly caressing.

  “I love you, too, Harry,” I breathed, thoroughly enjoying the delicate touches. A comfortable silence settled in the air, the innocuousness seeping into my pores like a drug, making me high with Harry’s benignity.

  “Would you like to go see the photo exhibit they’re opening today at Hamiltons Gallery? They close up at six so there’s like four hours…” I said after the moment of verbal vacancy. “Like… our first date?” I craned my neck to take a look at Harry’s face and his beaming smile was my response.

  “That sounds lovely, Boo. How long have you been planning this?”

  “Shut up, you twat.” I blushed but didn’t grin any less.

  So half an hour later we stood at the exhibit’s entrance, wearing half-arsed disguises for the least possible attention. Harry sported a beanie to cover his dead-give-away curls and a pair of sunglasses that he took as soon as we came inside the teen-evacuated area. My look matched his quite well. Thankfully this exhibit was quite unpopular among the youths of London, leaving us to gaze at the images in peace. It was evident that some of the adults recognised us but none made an approach. Something I was glad for.

  Harry grinned when he saw the name of the exhibit, throwing me a look that clearly stated _‘What are you implying exactly?’_  finished off with an arched eyebrow.

   _I WANT TO LIVE CLOSE TO YOU_  by Jacob Felländer.

  I just shook my head with bashful expression before I grabbed his hand in mine.

  “I don’t want to live  _close_  to you. I want to live with you, Harold!” I exclaimed, just for him to hear. Harry laughed heartily at that.

  “God, Louis! You can be so  _cheesy_.”

  “Only for you.”

  We walked through to the different white rooms with giant pictures displayed over the ivory wallpaper; fascinating images, really. It was apparent that they were of cities but… the buildings and colours moulded together in the most unexplainable way, several times in several layers. In a few of them the buildings reminded me of ruins from Rome or Greece yet the description said it was layers of pictures from Bombay, Dubai and Paris. The cityscapes of New York made the structures look like they were on fire or just gleaming from a withering flame.

  “It is mind-blowing,” Harry started reading from a little booklet he’d received about the photography-project. “And perhaps the most beautiful thing in the world – the fact that we want to live close together. I made a journey around the world’s most densely populated cities, trying to capture the entire world in one negative – a multi-exposure experiment on film in an analogue camera. But the photographic purpose was soon…” he continued mumbling the text in an un-interpretable volume. I just watched him, fond words flitting through my mind at the sight before me. It was, conceivably, a waste of money to go to a photography exhibit because as fascinating as the images are, nothing compares to my Harry.

  “We may think we’re different, we may think that we like or dislike each other. But still, we choose to live extremely close to one another: next to, underneath, above. Close. Close together.  Jacob Falländer, April 2011,” he finished, audibly. Harry smiled as he looked up from the words. “I never really thought of it like that,” he whispered, almost to himself.

  “Really, Michelle? Seriously? And I’d thought you had changed!” a raised voice comes from somewhere behind us. I tensed up. That voice sounded like a teenage girl. I really hoped that she wouldn’t recognise us because I just wanted to have this date with Harry go peacefully. There weren’t any other people in this area so it wasn’t like we could just ‘disappear in the crowd’. But, as I paid more attention, I noticed the girls were quite occupied anyway.

  “No, Joy, listen to me! It’s not what you think! I promise I just thought I knew him from somewhere,” the blonde earnestly tried to convince her friend.

  “Oh, yeah sure, from what? Last night’s one night stand? You know what, I am sick and tired of you always treating me like I’m second best. I’m your godforsaken girlfriend! Why are you even in this relationship if you’re not even attracted to me? If you’d rather have a man?” the brunette had tears coating her retinas, shining from the liquid. Her fast blinking sent a little tear splatter on her glasses, something she refused to tend to as she stared at her girlfriend with accusatory eyes. Harry and I stood frozen; afraid we’d attract attention to ourselves if we moved a limb and watched the scene unfold.

  “What? How can you even say that to me? What did I ever do to deserve this doubt?”

  “What do you mean deserve—every other man we walk past is eye-candy to you and you’re never home anymore and what am I supposed to think of the  _used_  condom I found the other day? In my own home! Michelle, I just—I can’t do this anymore,” the brunette choked out, her face flushed and eyes pooling.

  “Wait—hold on a minute. Are  _you_  breaking up with  _me_?” The blond— _Michelle—_ stared at her incredulously. This made Joy quiet and she was obviously churning everything in her head.

  “Y-yes. Yes I am,” she exhaled the words, as if she couldn’t really believe them herself.

  “Oh,” Michelle’s eyes and mouth were round. “Well, I guess that saved me the trouble.”

  And then she disappeared; walked right out of the building and… there stood Joy, rooted to the carpeted floor. A drop of salt water trailed down her cheek when she blinked. Her gaze fell upon the name of the project and a broken sob ripped from her vocal chords.

   _I WANT TO LIVE CLOSE TO YOU_.

  She looked around herself and spotted us before quickly shooting her eyes at the ground, as if she was ashamed of her tears or, simply didn’t want us to see her cry. “Um—sorr-ry you had to s-see that…” She lifted her gaze to look at us and it seemed that she just recognised us. Her eyes grew comically wide and a deeper shade painted her cheeks. “Oh god,” she whispered under her breath before she frantically fled the scene.

  Harry and I turned to each other with our eye-lids drawn back as far as they possibly could.

  “Um, just so you know, even though I’m quite uncomfortable in the whole ‘being gay’ thing, I  _will not_ be shagging any girls. I’m a hundred per cent into you and only you—”

  “Harry, what are you doing?”

  “Preventing that from happening to us.”

  “Aw, you’re too cute. I love you!”

  “I love you, Boobear.”

  “Damn it!”

  “…”

  I hardened my glare.

  “…too.”

 

   _Much better, little Harold! Believe me when I say it._


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Harry’s POV**

_Eight months later_

  Coming out was probably one of the best things I’d ever done. I mean, I’m not saying my life has been easy since then but  _god —_ the relief of living an honest life is seriously worth all the hardships we had to go through. And most people have cooled down now so Louis and I were able to squeeze in a date or two in the location-switching parts of the tour when we had a few days break. Our parents were very supportive and nice when we told them, as well.

  The sound of our soles slapping the pavement in the darkness of the November night was a pleasant sound. It was separated from the noise of the living city behind us; separated by a veil of silence. The murmurs of the city couldn’t reach us more than a sated hum in the background while the silence in the middle leaked into the frequent  _tap tap tap_ of our shoes on the sidewalk, drowning it out. No, the real reason for our steps being drowned out was that all my awareness was focused upon the warm hand in my palm, wrapped in my fingers, heated skin touching heated skin in a bashful blush even after nine months.

  I sighed contentedly.  _Love, man. It changes a guy._

  It’s not like Louis and I never fought, though. We’d still get on each other’s nerves, just never to the point where we’re at the other’s throat. But the most serious subject of our fight ever was when Louis’d had enough of me leaving the utensils when it’s my turn to wash the dishes – which is most of the time. Washing utensils is a bother. Louis enjoys pointing out that I like to  _use_  them a lot, when I cook and eat and bake. He enjoys it a lot; it gets most of his frustration out.

  We arrived back at my flat after a wonderful date in the lamp lit park. As we walked up the staircase we heard odd shuffling and frustrated grunts echoing in the stairwell, accompanied by a loud bang and then a  _“fuck!”_  was heard. Louis and I exchanged a glance and scurried the last few steps.

  In the doorway of the flat across from mine there was a sofa. A beige couch was stuck with one armrest against the upper ledge of the doorway and the other perched on the threshold while someone was evidently trying to pull it inside.

  “Er, excuse me, d’you need any help?” I called out to the person and the sofa stilled.

  “Yes! Please, thank god! Could you possibly help me to get me couch inside?” came a female voice from the other side.

  “Sure, love! Harry, could you pull it out while I hold it up so it doesn’t fall on her?” Louis looked over at me for confirmation and I gave him a quick nod. I took hold of the nether jutted out edges of the sofa for a good grip as Louis placed his hands on the upper part of it.

  “One, two, three – pull!”

  The furniture was removed to reveal a girl who looked to be in her early twenties. She was wearing a grey pair of sweats and a brown tank top beneath a too-big t-shirt. Her hazel hair was in a messy bun and her glasses were sliding off the bridge of her nose. She pushed them up with her index finger and locked eyes on us.

  “Than—oh my goodness…” her voice gave out in a strangled whisper and her blue eyes turned into saucers – in a very familiar way. Louis gave her a slight, awkward wave.

  “Hi…”

  “Shit this is so embarrassing,” she practically whimpered. We looked at her quizzically.

  “What do you mean? There’s not really anything embarrassing about needing help to lift an object twice your weight,” I reasoned.

  “No, it’s—at the exhibit. Back in February,” the girl’s cheeks darken at the memory and suddenly it clicks.

  “You’re the girl who had a fight with the girlfriend!” we recognised.

  “Great, I’d hoped you would’ve forgotten that,” she smiled sheepishly.

  “Whatever happened to her?” I asked conversationally.

  “Well, things weren’t really smooth after that argument so she told me to pack my bags – and here I am. We used to live together and when we broke up no one would even help me move. I hired a guy to drive all my stuff here but I couldn’t afford a team to help me carry anything. That’s why I’m here at ten, still moving the stuff inside.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. Wait, when did you start moving?”

  “About noon,” she sighed heavily.

  “So you’ve been carrying these heavy weights  _all day_? Aren’t you, like, thoroughly knackered?” Louis asked in disbelief.

  “Yup,” she said as she leaned against the sofa that now stood in the stairwell, and it was first now that I saw the trembling in her muscles and the complete dead look in her eyes. She was  _exhausted_.

  “But that happened months ago. Why are you moving in today?” I tried to clarify, as it felt like something was missing.

  “D’you know how hard it is to find decent flat in London with my salary? I’ll probably not be able to live here in a month or two. Unless I get a job that throws ridiculous amounts of money at me,” she pouted sulkily.

  She was clearly upset by this conversation so I offered us to help her carry her sofa inside; also as a change of topic. Very smooth. Thank you, I try.

 

  When we got the piece of furniture settled in in her messy flat we bid her goodbye, unbeknown at the time that it was a future friendship between the three of us.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Harry’s POV**

   _Half a year later_

  The door burst open just when Louis was about to slide down the zipper of my jeans and in stormed Joy, red in the face from what seemed like anger.

  “How can people be so fucking disrespectful?” she fumed and turned to glare at us on the couch. “And button your trousers, boy.” I did as told because an angry Joy in nothing you want to mess with. Lou cleared his throat as we sat up straight.

  “What’s up, J?”

  “What’s up? What’s up!? Something dead and homophobic is up Aaron’s arse, that’s what.”

  Ah. Mr Aaron. Joy’s boss.

  “He knows – he fucking knows – how the fact that I can’t have a baby with a woman gets to me. And what does he do? Practically taunts me with that I don’t even have a girlfriend to begin with. He says the most horrible things about me and what can I do about it? Nothing! I mean, quitting is not an option because without that job I won’t be able to afford the flat and just—ugh, I don’t know what to do,” she sinks into the loveseat with tears pooling at her waterline.

  “I want a baby,” Joy whined as we sighed and shuffled over to sit next to her. “Charlotte came by today to give Aaron his lunch and on her hip sat such a cute little baby. It’s a miracle Aaron could produce such a beautiful daughter. She looked, like seriously cuddly and my heart just hurts.”

  This wasn’t exactly the first time this happened. I locked gazes with Louis and he gave a short nod.

  “H-hey, Joy,” I started, nervously. “Lou and I have been talking. A-about these outbursts you’ve had recently, about kids and—”

  “ _Oh_ ,” Joy looked like she’d just realised something. “I’m being a troublesome friend, I am so sorry! I didn’t—I promise I’ll stop—”

  “No! Joy, that’s not it!” Louis swallowed “We were actually thinking of providing you… eh, with sperm. Like, as your male friends we thought we could do this for you. And besides, Harry and I are actually not at all opposed to the idea of kids… so if you were okay with kind of having a three way parent-ship, we could… have a kid, together.” Louis put his arm around her shoulders for emphasis, grabbing my shoulder in his firm and soothing grip. He shot me a calming smile over Joy’s head and I returned it. “So what do you say, Joy?”

  She looked both of us in the eyes for a long time before she let a smile bloom over her face. A small bubble of delight fell from her lips as she couldn’t dry her happy-tears away, one making its trail down her cheek. “You guys are truly the best,” she sniffled, her voice thick and wavering. Then she threw her arms around us and I realised, that we loved her, as much as two gay men can love a lesbian woman. It was quite beautiful, in the same sense as it was weird.

  Odd things happen in life and this was undoubtedly one of them. Me and Louis starting a family with Joy and just how it all worked out. It isn’t your particular love-story where we get to be the only parents but still, I was unbelievably ecstatic. And it all was so perfect.

  Joy contacted her doctor about her wishes of pregnancy while we all sat in the living room, tense with anticipation. However, when she told him that she wanted to mix the sperm of two different donors the doctor completely refused to perform the insemination. Simply because the clinic didn’t provide that width of service. So we did it ourselves.

  We bought a plastic syringe without the needle and filled it both Louis’ and my seed. Joy researched a tad of when it is most guaranteed of success. Louis, being the sweetheart he is, awkwardly asked if she needed any help with the… procedure. She simply laughed fondly at him and took the medical syringe before she went back to her own flat. We waited. It felt as if we’d never waited that long, ever. For anything. And when she came back, about half an hour later, we were quick on our feet.

  “So, J, did it work?”

  “How do you feel?”

  “D’you feel pregnant?”

  “Liked knocked up pregnant?”

  “Mate, what other pregnant is there?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to—”

  “LADS! We’ll still have to wait another two weeks to know if it worked or not, okay? In two weeks I’ll take a pregnancy test and we’ll know then,” Joy used that voice again. The voice she uses when she thinks we’re acting ‘below our intellect’ or whatever shit she told us last time.

  -~-

  Now obviously Louis and I still had photo shoots, meet & greets, interviews and live shows with the rest of the lads but the best part of the day was when we’d come home to that five-month big belly and just relish in the fact that soon –  _soon_  – we’d not be just the three of us anymore. We’d have two – yes, two; we’re having twins! Isn’t that amazing? – little creatures running around. I still couldn’t believe it.

  -~-

  It happened quite unexpectedly.

  Louis, Zayn, Niall, Liam and I were on stage in the middle of a show in London when Paul suddenly rushed to us in the spotlight with a serious expression on his face and his phone in one hand. Then he said the words that were both terrifying and relieving at the same time.

  “Joy’s water just broke.”

  The rest of the night was a blur.

  I know that both Louis and I managed to get off the stage and in the car because the next moment we were surrounded by white walls and people in scrubs. Adrenaline pumped in my veins and beads of sweat were materialising along my hairline as Louis spoke to the receptionist, his words un-interpretable in the haze. We were running to the room – the room where  _our babies_  would be born. My pulse sounded like a gong-gong to my ears along with the screaming. Joy was screaming. She seemed like she was in so much pain. Louis’ hand felt clammy but  _sane_  in my hand.

  And then, there was other screaming.

  Little baby-screams. 


	25. Epilogue

  Joy opens the door, ushering Grace and Jonathan inside; away from the biting of the winter air. It is their first day at preschool and she seems more nervous than they are. Grace is excited but quite shy to the new environment, and Jonathan can simply not be described as anything but  _buzzing._  He’s always been very outgoing and bold, just like his father; curious blue eyes seeking out mischief time and time again. He quickly runs for the play-room once he’s taken off all those thick, thick clothes. What a bother those are! His mother simply shakes her head fondly at her son, the warm smile ever present.

  Grace tugs uncertainly at the end of her mother’s cardigan with a bright smile on her face, as if she doesn’t know if she is allowed to follow after her brother and join the games but that she is unbelievably eager to. Joy crouches down to hold her daughter’s face in her palms, softly tucking a silk curl behind Grace’s dainty ear.

  “Go and play, lovey. I love you, and your daddies do, too. I’ll pick you up in a little while.”

 Joy leaned in and pressed her lips to her daughter’s nose in a tender kiss, full of love and devotion.

  “Alright, mummy dearest. I love you,” she let the sentence trail awkwardly and Joy immediately hardened her gaze in a stern but joking way as Grace cracked and said “too!” through a wide smile. “When Daddy Harry does that Daddy Lou always attacks him with kisses.”

  “Is it kisses that you want, love?”

  “Yes, because I’ll miss you!”

  Her mother’s lip quivered as she peppered Grace’s little face with light but meaningful kisses. Grace just giggled, “Bye, mum!” and then she ran after her brother.

 

  “I never knew you’d give birth to your own one day, Joy. You and kids are a really pretty sight.”

Startled, Joy looks up at the woman who is her children’s preschool teacher.

  “Oh.”

  A rueful smile appeared as she took in her familiar and pretty face.

  “Lovely to see you, Michelle.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_—  The 19th of February, 2013, before the Take Me Home tour._

_“Harry, would you be kind enough to answer a question that has been asked all around the globe recently?”_

_Harry shifts a tad uncomfortably in the vibrant coloured sofa. His jeans were itching and those being skin tight made his thighs feel suffocated. The fabric of his blazer was ten layers too thick and he was sweating odiously._

_It didn’t look that way, though._

_To the camera he looked calm, smiley and charming. The exact opposite._

_The petite woman in the armchair replaced a rogue strand of her oak tinted hair to its former place, recreating the flawless piece of art._

_“So many fans have all been asking the same question. What exactly is your orientation?”_

_“Um, well, I’ve never wanted to put a label on things really. I’ve always dated girls before but… Lou just turned me around completely and now I wouldn’t be able to_ _my head around a life without him_ _, I just—it’s quite hard to explain,” he finished sheepishly. The interviewer looked a tad concentrated with (perfect) furrowed brows before she opened her mouth in an attempt to make sense of it all._

_“So what you’re saying is, that you are bi but prefer boys now?”_

_Harry still being insecure and unsure of his sexuality answered truthfully._

_“Incorrect. I am straight but I prefer Louis,” his voice was light but laced with deep emotion. He took his boyfriend’s hand in his own and smiled the most endearing smile. “Always Louis over everybody.”_

_Louis beamed with some sort of innate light as he placed his hands on either side of Harry’s face, feeling up the dimples and planting a kiss upon his plump lips._

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you, too.”_

_  
ｆｉｎ_


End file.
